


The Professional

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Dom Keith (Voltron), Dom/sub, M/M, Painplay, Praise Kink, Restraints, Sensation Play, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: Shiro is trapped in a life of expectations and responsibility. The black sheep of a prominent business empire, he struggles to come to terms with the tragedy that knocked his life off course. He starts looking for solace through unconventional means.Keith is ready to offer his services for a price, and it doesn't hurt that Shiro looks so good on his knees.





	1. Chapter 1

The inside of _Refuge_ was bathed in warm, almost sleepy light. Everything was in silvery greys to rich maroons, from the large, cushy couches that Shiro was melting into, to the tall bookcases and textured wall paper. Large floor-to-ceiling windows were covered in airy transparent drapes that hid most of the evening light. Designed to be open and inviting, it was nicer than a lot of hotels Shiro had been to, and Shiro had been to a lot of those, all over the globe. None of it was enough to take away from the young man behind the desk that commanded the floor. It wasn’t unreasonable in size, but Shiro felt like he was looking up the entire time they spoke.

Keith Nakamaro looked exactly like his online profile with strong, handsome features and intelligent eyes, the darkest shade of purple he’d ever seen. He had strong hands, too. Shiro couldn’t help but notice. Steady and lean. With long fingers that tapered gracefully. It was to much to be thinking about those hands, right now.

He wasn’t what Shiro was expecting. None of this was. If he was being honest with himself, he was expecting tacky dungeon chains like he’d seen at the local costume store, and maybe a lot of naked sculptures because  _why not_. Unlike hotels, his experience with escort services was limited.

Keith had just sat back down after pouring them both a cup of coffee. Shiro’s hands shook as he tried to pour in creamer, getting white powder all over the desk. He felt like he’d been called to the center of class and asked a question he didn’t know the answer to, and he’d felt that way ever since he’d gotten out of his car.

“Mr. Shirogane?” He asked, voice impossibly smooth, and Shiro had to swallow. “Like the-”

“Yeah. We’re in the paper a lot.” Shiro said, cutting him off too quickly. “So a little discretion would be…?”

Great. Now he was being rude.

“I can assure you, we take the privacy of our clients with the utmost seriousness. No one will compromise that trust.” Keith sounded sincere, but it wasn’t enough to ease Shiro’s nerves. It was more than just his parents’ expectations or what the media might say, it felt like there was something electric crawling beneath his skin, restless and jittery that wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. He wondered for the thousandth time if this was a mistake, some stupid fantasy that was more risk than he should be taking.

This was voluntarily tearing himself apart and being surprised at what he found beneath. Shiro was afraid it was too late to back out now.

“It’s just Shiro, please. I, um, I haven’t done anything like this before. I’m not sure where to begin.”

“Then call me Keith. Why don’t you just tell me what you like?” Keith was every inch the polished professional. “My service is all about offering you what you need, it’s based on negotiation and open communication. You need to be honest with me about your boundaries or we won’t be able to proceed.”

Shiro took a long swallow of his coffee. It scalded his throat the whole way down. 

“I’m not sure. Like I said, I haven’t done this before.”

“Then why don’t we start with something easy. How do you feel about restraints? Do you enjoy the idea of being tied down and helpless?”

“Ah.” Shiro had to close his mouth with a snap, feeling the flush burn beneath his skin.  “T-that, yeah. I mean, that sounds good. I just, I don’t want to think for a little while.”

Keith smiled at him and there was something softer about it lurking underneath the polish. “I understand. I think I can help you, Shiro.”

Shiro took another sip, hastily looking away from those lovely eyes. Keith was gorgeous, and that’d helped a lot when Shiro’d been digging up the courage to try this, but it was more than that. On his dossier, he’d said _“I can give you what you need.”_  

Shiro thought about it too much.

“Do a lot of people start this not knowing what they want?” He asked, trying to match Keith’s smile. It felt uneven on his face, but Keith indulged him.

“Yeah, a lot of them do. A lot of people don’t know what to expect either, or they have a skewed assumption of how we do things. What matters is what you want, and how I can give it to you. It doesn’t just have to be about what goes on behind closed doors. Some people like the stability outside, too.” Keith leaned across the desk, made it seem like they were just having a conversation. He closed the distance between them almost effortlessly. Shiro found himself drawn in, the soft timbre of Keith’s voice lulling him as much as his easy acceptance. He thought he had an idea of what he liked, but actually saying it out loud still made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t think I want to do outside, I mean, things outside the bedroom. Could you tell me what to do?” Shiro asked. “Not here- I mean. When we’re together, I think I’d like someone to take the lead. For a little while.”

“Then you came to the right place. I boss people around for a living.” Shiro snorted and Keith grinned. 

“Do I call you Shiro when I order you?” Keith asked, tone deceptively light. Shiro shook his head, and Keith paused in consideration. “Would you like to call me anything?”

Shiro’s stomach clenched, and he thought about it, on his knees, in front of Keith’s polished shoes, looking up at him as he ached in the best way.

“Sir.”

It was almost a whisper, like Shiro wasn’t sure he wanted to be heard, but Keith’s expression stayed just the same.

“And is there anything you want to wear for your sir, Shiro? Or anything you’d want me to wear.”

Just the barest grind of a growl sharpened Keith’s question. but Shiro’s breath caught in his throat, his cheeks darkening as old memories came back unbidden. Memories of soft leather, and tight uniforms, and pressed suits with sharp lines. He inhaled sharply and shook his head. “Maybe? No. Not yet. If that’s okay.”

“It’s okay. And it’s good that you told me.” Keith’s tone never shifted, but Shiro lapped up the praise anyway, slowly shaking himself out of his reverie.

“I read about. I don’t know about sensory stuff. Sensation. Feeling. I was wondering if you could tell me? I wanted that. That and the orders.”

“Hmmm.” Keith almost seemed like he was purring and Shiro found himself leaning in, trying to get closer. “There’s quite a few options, depending on the client’s taste. We play with what you feel by giving you more or giving you less. Some people enjoy the feeling of hot or cold while they’re restrained or blindfolded, at the mercy of their partner. Nothing dangerous, just the quick burn of wax before it soothes or ice against their skin. It’s better when your eyes are closed and it’s unexpected.”

Shiro nodded wordlessly, hands wrapped tight around his coffee mug.

“Some prefer something a little sharper. A balance between pain and pleasure. I could use a crop or a flogger, even a paddle if you’d like. Nothing that would break the skin or be visible beneath your suit, another part of our discretion.

“I don’t want to feel too much anymore.” He was embarrassing himself, Shiro could feel it. He knew this was a mistake, a man like him didn’t belong here. He could deal with his issues himself, this was so far from his normal life and his normal expectations, and yet he could feel the sharp wire of want pulled taut inside of him. His mouth ran away with him. “I guess that’s a real booty call.”

Keith stared at him for a moment before laughing, trying to smother the sound behind his hand. “You might be right.”

Somehow, the fact a stupid joke could crack Keith’s mask made Shiro feel better and he relaxed slightly into the chair. The formality was killing him, making this all seem more intense than he was ready for. He appreciated the professionalism, but if he was going to step into the absurd, it helped to know they could both laugh about it. “As long as this isn’t a complete dis-ass-ter, then I guess I’m in.”

Keith swallowed another laugh, and he was lovely behind that veneer. Someone Shiro thought he could trust. He would have to, for this. “Good. We can set up an appointment at your convenience, I could join you at your apartment if that would be more comfortable for you? If this is your first time, being somewhere familiar might help you relax.”

This was really happening. Shiro could’ve laughed. Now he just needed to set the perfect date. He needed time to prepare, but if he had too much time, he’d chicken out. Shiro couldn’t say he wasn’t chickening out already. Why couldn’t he just be happy with his problems like regular people? Talk to a shrink or lose himself at the bottom of the bottle. The second option was appealing, and the first was an ongoing process, that took place once a week, with extra group therapy sessions. If only it was enough. Instead he had to find the most attractive professional dom in the city and twist himself into knots.

“One more thing. I got into a fight with a rocket.” Shiro smiled and it tasted like plastic. He couldn’t tell if Keith was surprised or not. That Shirogane name, they really were in the papers far too much. To his own ears, he sounded as confident as he did insincere. “General consensus is that the rocket won, but I think I got a few licks in. Underneath my clothes, I _look_ like I got hit by a rocket. It’s a good thing my face was always this messed up, now everything sort of matches.”

Breathe. He had to remember how to breathe. They were always telling him that. “The point is it’s not a pretty sight. And I have a prosthetic arm. Is that going to be a problem?”

Keith had laughed at his jokes, and that smile hadn’t entirely faded by the time Shiro was done. He seemed unshakable. Shiro kind of liked that. “I just need to know, are you more comfortable wearing it during sex or not?”

“On for now. I don’t want to go into this completely un _armed_.” Shiro said in a deadpanned voice as Keith shook his head with a smile.

“That’s fine. All you have to do is tell me when and where to meet you and we can get started.”

He was doing this, he was really freaking doing this. That tension inside of Shiro pulled tighter, almost to the breaking point. He could finally let go, even if it was just for a few minutes, with someone who wouldn’t comment about his body or ask about his scars. Keith would do what he was paid to do without the horror or worse, the pity. He wouldn’t have to pretend to be perfect all the time, he could just breathe for one moment without feeling like he was being crushed.

“Friday night, 9:00. My apartment is on 23rd Street, it’s the penthouse. Just ring when you arrive and I’ll let you up.” Shiro licked his lips, tearing his thoughts out of their fantasy to look into Keith’s dark eyes. It didn’t help much, he still felt like he was drowning.

“I’ll be there. And don’t worry, Shiro, after this, you’ll feel much better.” The words held so much promise and Shiro shuddered, unable to stop himself from imaging exactly what they could mean. He nodded and stood, shaking Keith’s hand before signing off on the bill.

It was a date.

 

* * *

 

Shiro still couldn’t believe it the next day, or the day after that, but he kept revisiting their meeting in his mind, analyzing it from every angle until he couldn’t tell what was memory and what was wishful thinking. It had been so long since he’d had anything ( _anyone_ ) to look forward to, and it was wrecking havoc on his nerves. He’d tried this before, but a hand job at the back of a club that ended before it began wasn’t the same as sitting in Keith’s sleek polished office, quietly taking apart what had kept Shiro warm for the last three months.

He’d never been the most social person, but before the accident, he’d had a lot of people who were willing to call him a friend, even if most of his life had been overrun by work. He’d loved his job. He’d always been the odd egg in the family, testing rockets for a private contractor that worked directly with NASA instead of directly contributing to the Shirogane Empire. After the accident, no matter how supportive they were, everyone had seemed to want to rub that in. After the accident, he’d been lonely.

Maybe he’d been lonely all this time, but it was easier to see after everything had fallen away.

Lonely, angry, regretful - it made for an ugly emotional cocktail, and the heavy helping of sad only made things worse. It had taken Shiro a long time to move forward. Some days he still wasn’t sure he’d make it the whole way. He didn’t expect a miracle cure, but he hoped this would help. Somehow.

Two days later, Keith sent him an email under an inconspicuous subject confirming his appointment, and a discretely named file that nearly froze Shiro into his chair. He’d checked twice that his office door was locked before scrolling down to read about the different types of restraints Keith had selected for them to try, from silk, to steel, to leather, and it had taken Shiro a long time before he could answer anything.

The questions came over the span of a week, and every time Shiro’s heart stopped in his chest.  

Keith demanded full honesty or he wouldn’t be able to provide his service and Shiro struggled. He’d gotten so used to covering up his hurts with a smile or dismissing what he wanted in favor of someone else it had become second nature. Keith kept pushing until Shiro was forced to be honest, haltingly describing what he liked and what was off limits. By the time Friday finally came, Shiro was wound so tight he thought he might snap.

He paced across the floor of his apartment, unsure what to wear or how to start. Did Keith expect some kind of fetish gear? Toys? Shiro started to feel woefully unprepared and wondered if he should just call the entire thing off. There were so many things that could go wrong and he wasn’t sure how to do any of them-

A sharp knock yanked him out of his thoughts and he hurried across the apartment to open the front door. Keith smiled up at him, dressed in an impeccably pressed white oxford and black pants, a bag slung over one shoulder. Shiro found his eyes fixed on it and swallowed as he moved back to allow Keith into the room.

“Hey, welcome. Make yourself at home. The dog's at the sitter.” Dressed in a Henley and jogging pants, he felt woefully under dressed. He tried act calm, closing the door behind Keith and gesturing inside. It was the one luxury he hadn’t been able to refuse. He might have been the black sheep of the family, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to get too far.

“So, um. Do I just take everything off or...”

“We’ll start of slowly, just like we talked about.” Keith said, putting down his bag. He hadn’t even opened it, and Shiro was already painfully curious. “If there’s anything you’d like to change before we start, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Shiro nodded mutely, but his stomach knotted. It felt like they’d exchanged a thousand emails over the week. He’d be damned if he could remember anything on them. Then Keith was in front of him, taking him by the hand. He squeezed once, smile warm, and Shiro no longer felt like running.

“Are you still okay with us using all parts of your house? And a punishment-reward system?”

Shiro nodded once, then again.

“I brought the tools we mentioned, and we’ll try each of them before any strong orders are given. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” Even and calm, business-like but not impersonal. Keith seemed to have the right balance of everything, and in that moment, that was exactly what Shiro needed. It was exactly what he agreed to.

“Safe word?”

Shiro exhaled deeply, clenching and unclenching his hands, before he whispered, “Voltron.”

“Good boy. You’re going to be so good for me.” The praise twisted in his stomach, unexpected and surprising, and Shiro calmed down slowly, then all at one. Keith cupped his cheek, his thumb gently brushing along the curve of his mouth, stern and assessing before he ordered, “Kiss me.”

Shiro didn’t know how badly he’d wanted it until it was offered, and he closed the distance between them in an instant, pushing into Keith’s space, but Keith decided how they fit together. He pressed up against Shiro, chest to chest and hip to hip, guiding him through with a hard mouth and wicked tongue, until Shiro was panting for breath, already hard against Keith’s thigh. Christ it had been so long. He just wanted to touch, to hold. Keith moved away and he shivered.

“I have a gift for you.” Shiro watched with wide eyes as Keith retrieved a thin black collar from his bag. Simple and understated, made of the softest leather, a twist of anticipation rippled through Shiro. This was it. They were really doing this. Keith gestured for him to approach, and slowly fastened it around his throat. “From now on, whenever you wear this, you signal that the scene’s started. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes…?” There was an edge to Keith’s voice, not disapproving but the promise that it could be, and Shiro didn’t want it. He wanted the husky growl that anchored him, as tangibly as the weight around his neck.

“Yes, sir.”

“Take this off, Shiro.” Keith tugged on hte hem of his shirt, and Shiro tensed. It was. No. It was still too bright, too open. Keith could see, but he’d ordered, and Shiro couldn’t, not like this when-

“Shiro.”

He startled out of his reverie, to find Keith staring down at him, calm on the outside but his dark violet eyes raged with their own storms. “Did you not like that order?”

“No, sir.”

Not ten minutes in and he was already messing this up. Shiro could have kicked himself. He told himself he should have felt ridiculous, standing in his living room, taking orders from a man he hardly knew, but shame was too easy to latch onto. Then Keith was touching him, dragging his open palms across Shiro’s bare arms, and every where he touched sent sparks through Shiro’s nerves. He curled his hand around the back of Shiro’s throat, Shiro sighed.

“Why didn’t you like it, Shiro?”

Shiro could feel his cheeks heating up, and he averted his gaze, looking towards the ground. “It’s too bright, sir. I don’t want you to see me.”

Keith hummed low in his chest, and his hands moved until he scratched his nails along Shiro’s scalp. It felt good, so damn good. Tension bled from Shiro’s frame, forgotten with every passing second, and when Keith spoke, he carved him open and left him needy. “Good boy. You did good, Shiro. Telling me exactly what you think. But I still want to play. I want to try something.”

Keith took a step back, and Shiro let out an embarrassing noise, reaching out for him before he stopped himself. Keith let him go. “Close your eyes now.” He ordered. “And don’t move.”

Shiro hesitated, but only for a little while. He took greedy gulps, listening as Keith’s footsteps walked away from him. He heard him looking through his bags, but for what he didn’t know. Keith never rushed when he walked. That made Shiro all the more impatient, twitching in his own clothes. It was a sweet mercy when Keith’s hand found him.

“Good boy,” he praised. “Eyes still closed. So good for me.”

Shiro wanted to be good. Keith urged him to bend lower, and something silky soft wrapped around his head. When Shiro opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness. The blindfold fit perfectly.

“Is this better?” Keith asked. “I’m going to undress you now.”

He wouldn’t move until Shiro said yes. Shiro always wanted to say yes.

Keith’s hands were steady and sure, warm where they brushed against his skin. He slowly pulled Shiro’s shirt up, dragging it across his chest before sliding it back over his shoulders to pull it free. He didn’t hesitate or so much as gasp at the scars he uncovered. Shiro was silently grateful for that.

“You came to me because you needed someone to help you, isn’t that right?” He murmured, breath hot against Shiro’s neck.

“Yes, sir.” Shiro breathed.

“I know it’s hard and it can be overwhelming, but you can trust me. All I want to do is help you.” He pressed a kiss to Shiro’s collarbone as his captive’s body quivered beneath his touch. “You told me what you like, but you never told me why.” Keith’s hands slid lower, curling around Shiro’s hips before moving down to his knees. He widened the space between them, gently pulling Shiro’s legs apart to stroke his hand down the inside of his thigh over his pants.

“W-why?”

“Why do you need this? Why did you come to see me?” Keith’s knuckles grazed along Shiro’s crotch, gently teasing against where his cock was straining against his pants.

“Because I can’t do all of this, I can’t be everything for them.” Shiro pulled away, straightening himself up but Keith held him back down before he could yank the blindfold from his face. “I can’t, it’s too much.”

Keith waited for the safe word just in case, but it never came. Slowly, he loosened his grip, moving to stroke his hands through Shiro’s hair. “Let me take care of you, Shiro. Right now, you don’t have to be in charge of anything, just let go. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, sir.” The answer came whispering back, vulnerable and unsure. Shiro had never given up command before, not during training or on his missions or even after he’d been hurt. He’d pushed through, ignoring the fraying edges and thin cracks that kept spreading until he felt like the weight of it all would shatter him. Keith offered a taste of freedom, if just for a little while.

“Good boy.”

He kissed Shiro then, no warning, no pause. Held him by the jaw and coaxed him into a slow, needy kiss. His hand stroked down Shiro’s clothed cock throughout, its pace steady and even the entire time. Shiro’d forgotten how much he missed this, and Keith could take him apart just like that, their bodies barely touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. When he moved, the small plastic buttons of Keith’s shirt pressed against his skin, and Shiro  _wanted_.

“Hands behind your back,” Keith ordered. “Hold them there. You’re not allowed to touch until I say so. Understood?”

Shiro bit back a whine, keyed up and so eager, but he swallowed down his protest and linked his fingers behind his back. “Yes, sir.”

“So obedient.” Keith whispered, walking his fingers across Shiro’s clavicle, dipping into the shadows that played across his skin. “I like you like this.”

His mouth replaced his fingers, soft lips exploring as his other hand remained teasing across Shiro’s crotch. It stayed there as its partner stroked down Shiro’s flank, tracing along his sensitive sides and moving across his belly then back up to his ribs, the tips of Keith’s nails dragging just enough to make Shiro jolt. “Look at you, you’re beautiful. The things I’m going to do to you, Shiro,” he promised, moving closer until Shiro could grind against his hip, helpless to stop the way his body moved and greedy for more. Keith reached behind him, hands ghosting down his hips then settling low on his ass, squeezing hard. “Next time I’ll make you prepare yourself for me. Get yourself slick and loose and ready to bend over whenever I want you. Like a good boy.”

Shiro whimpered, caught between fantasy and the need the prickled through his veins. It had been so long, so long since anyone touched him, so long since anyone had wanted to, and he was going to come in his pants like a teenager. “Keith- sir. Sir I just need…”

Keith reached between them to push down Shiro’s pants, letting them bunch down around his knees. Then his fingers wrapped around the length of Shiro’s cock, where it was thick and hot, flushed red with arousal and dripping down his shaft, and Shiro’s knees buckled. Keith dragged one finger along its length, from base to tip, and Shiro forgot how to breathe.

“Hands behind your back. Are you with me, Shiro?”

Shiro blinked behind his blindfold, mouth falling open wordlessly as he tried to find his voice. It took him a moment still, but he nodded once, twice. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He felt Keith kiss the tip of his chin, then his arms went around Shiro’s waist. “Now take off your pants.”

It was different, unnerving. Trying to focus on his balance without sight or his hands to guide him, but Keith kept him steady, and Shiro kicked his legs free. It was a challenge in its own right, making him struggle from a different angle, and after Keith left him go, he pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth. His stomach was fluttering, and sweat dripped down his brow. There was a high price for vulnerability, and Shiro wasn’t sure if he was finished paying.

“We’re going to use the restraints now, Shiro. Are you still with me?”

Shiro nodded but Keith wasn’t satisfied until he managed to croak the words out loud. “Yes, sir.” He stumbled just a little as Keith led him backwards, feeling completely helpless as the other man steered him through his apartment until the back of his knees hit a chair and Shiro sat down hard.

“Put your hands behind your back and keep your knees spread for me.” Keith ordered gently as Shiro obeyed. The cuffs were leather but lined with something soft, their buckles jangling as Keith clasped them around Shiro’s wrists. They weren’t too tight, but when he gave a tug to test their bonds, he wasn’t able to pull free. It felt like his heart was racing so fast it would break through his ribs and Shiro had to take a deep breath, reminding himself that this was what he wanted.

It was just harder to let go than he expected.

“Relax, Shiro. Trust me, remember?” Keith paused to trace his hands down Shiro’s chest, leaning in to press soft, wet kisses against his neck. “I’ve got you.” His touch was gentle but demanding, stripping away the mask of control Shiro had carefully worn for so long. His hands didn’t hesitate as they traced along scars or ruined skin, kissing every inch of Shiro’s body until it surrendered.

“Keith-“ Shiro couldn’t voice the plea before it was being swallowed down, Keith’s mouth on his own. The kiss was hard and left him breathless, panting against his partners lips and eager for more. Keith traced the bitten red of Shiro’s mouth with his thumb, baiting him for more and never giving Shiro what he wanted.

“You really are beautiful.” He purred as one hand finally wrapped around Shiro’s aching cock with a gentle squeeze, causing his prisoner to jump. “You’re not allowed to come until I tell you, do you understand?”

Keith’s other hand was warm and heavy on Shiro’s shoulder, holding him down with just enough pressure to remind Shiro that he shouldn’t move. He knew he couldn’t break free, but Shiro couldn’t seem to let go of the last thread of tension. It coiled through his veins, keeping him arrested in place, as sure as the leather straps that weighed him down. Keith was asking so much. Shiro didn’t know if he could, didn’t want to let him down, didn’t want to do wrong. “I don’t know.”

His voice wavered, embarrassed by the possibility of failure, but Keith leaned in and kissed his brow, gently smoothing back his fringe. “That’s it. That’s my good boy.”

It was so tender Shiro could have sobbed, and he sagged against his chair, pleased to have his attention. Keith kept his touches light, too quick for Shiro to catch and just enough to leave him squirming. “I’ll let you come any time you want to. As long as I’m not touching your cock. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes sir.” It was hard to focus on the words when Shiro’s world had narrowed down to touch alone. Keith never gave him enough friction for release, his hands barely stroking against him. He circled one finger around the oversensitive head of Shiro’s cock, smearing precum down his length. Shiro gave a soft moan and Keith drank it down, kissing him breathless and leaving Shiro chasing for more when he pulled away.

He was so pretty and eager, so ready to give himself over completely to someone else’s hands. Keith felt a small burst of pride as he slid between Shiro’s knees to kiss his thigh. His captive gave a shuddering breath, shoulders hunched and pulling slightly at the restraints, wanting to pull his hands free so he could knot them into Keith’s hair and drive him down.

“Please.” Shiro begged as Keith’s tongue traced across his skin, but his whole body jumped as sharp teeth bit down on his inner thigh hard enough to bruise. Before he could yelp, Keith was soothing the mark, drawing out the hot, sharp jolt of pain with pleasure as he gently teased Shiro’s balls.

“Please what, Shiro?”

“Please, sir.”

A wave of relief crashed against him as Keith kissed his fevered skin, more whispered praise spilling from his lips. He wanted to follow Keith’s gentle hand and the ways it coaxed sharp stinging pleasure in one moment, and overwhelming calm the next. Then Keith pulled away, slowly at first, his hands splayed across Shiro’s skin until the very last moment, but that wasn’t enough to stop a whine from clawing its way past his throat. Keith chuckled somewhere above him, and the ghost of a touch coaxed Shiro’s head up, leaving him open for Keith to kiss. Shiro’s mouth was tingling, and when he couldn’t lift his arms to do anything about it, he felt peace.

“Stay right here with me.” Keith teased. “We’re just getting started.”

Keith walked away. Shiro could tell from the deliberate steps he took that seemed to echo through his apartment. Then there was the rustle of fabric, the slap of elastic somewhere distant. They were his only companions in the darkness, so much louder with nothing else to focus on. They were over too soon, slipping between his fingers, and Shiro strained and twisted in place, impatient and eager but nervous like he couldn’t put to words. He wanted Keith. Keith? He wanted. Please. He couldn’t hear him. Where was he where was sir  _please_. “Sir?”

Something soft and teasing stroked down his chest, and Shiro jolted. It moved down his sternum, the gentle brush of a feather, guided by a leather tongue, then across his ribs. Up to one nipple, then the next. Shiro exhaled deeply, losing himself in the whisper of its touch. He could hear Keith breathing. When he moved between Shiro’s spread legs, his pants touched the inside of his straining thighs, and Shiro sighed all the way to his toes. 

The feather brushed across his cheek, down the side of his face and then over his flushed mouth. It was too light, almost as light as air, and Shiro couldn’t think straight. Then all at once, rough groves of prickled metal and smooth leather dragged down his chest, and Shiro jumped, writhing and gasping in shock.

“Do you recognize this, Shiro?”

The leather bit teased across his lips again, then down his chin. Keith cupped his cheek, the texture of his glove an almost painful contrast, and Shiro couldn’t think straight, struggled to breathe. He licked his lips once, twice, found his voice on the third time but already that felt like too much. “No, sir.”

Keith kissed him again, just as chaste and sweet as the last time, and Shiro’s mouth went slack with pleasure.

“It’s the feather crop you helped me pick out. And the gloves I mentioned.” They were back again, prickling across the smooth skin of his jaw and down his throat, over raised skin of old scars. Shiro’s head spun, lost to their bite, until Keith stopped. Shiro’s knees felt weak. “Do you like them, Shiro?”

The long length of the crop dragged across his thigh, stirring new interest. Shiro remembered what it was for. “I want to use with them on you.”

“I want…. I want to try, sir.”

“Good.” Keith stroked the feathers between Shiro’s thighs, brushing them delicately against his cock and across his balls. Shiro couldn’t keep his hips from twitching, bucking against nothing as they chased the feeling, precum spilling down his shaft. He needed more, ached for it, anything to find release but Keith was far from done. Shiro needed to surrender, truly give himself to someone else, and that was going to take more work.

The crop delicately slapped against Shiro’s balls, the light tap making him cry out and pull on the restraints. He stained against them, muscles in his arms cording. He could end this with just a word, but he held his tongue, desperate for more. When Keith’s gloved hand closed roughly around his throat, all he did was tip his head back and gasp, the rough gloves biting into his skin.

“More.” He begged as Keith tapped him again, sharp pain with soothing feathers, the edge of pleasure whirling in Shiro’s brain until he could barely think. Sweat gleamed down his chest, the skin glistening and flushed from exertion. Keith liked the way his hand prints stood red against the rest of Shiro’s neck. “Come on!”

“Now that’s not the way to beg. You know you don’t get to demand anything.” Keith gave him another tap and Shiro keened.

Shiro took greedy gulps of air, trying to center himself enough to catch his fleeting thoughts, but Keith wouldn’t stop touching him, the feather’s frayed edges sliding over his taut skin.

“Please,” he whispered, breathless even to his own ears. He closed his eyes behind his blindfold, feeling the prickle of unexpected heat as Keith dragged his thumb across his adam’s apple.

“Please what?”

“Please, sir.”

“I’m disappointed.” Keith pulled back as Shiro whined. “A good boy knows better than to forget that. I think you’re going to need a reminder of your place. You’re not in charge here, Shiro. You should be punished. Isn’t that right?”

Oh god. Shiro’s throat went by and a shiver raced down his body. That would make it all stop, silence the anxiety that never left him alone. “Yes, sir!”

Keith lashed the crop along the side of his thigh, sharp and surprising. Shiro cried out in shock before the pain could suffuse to the surface, prickling along his scarred flesh. Keith was already soothing it with his knuckles, rubbing leather along the abused flesh. It was too much to keep up with, every sensation bleeding together as Shiro tugged on his restraints. He could feel the blood rushing to his palms, leaving his fingertips numb and he wanted oh fuck he wanted.

“Five more.” Keith said, more stern than Shiro had heard him before and he flinched away. “And you’re not allowed to move until I say so. Understood?”

Shiro gasped, arching off the chair so hard, it dragged across the floor before settling. He wanted but he didn’t know how much. He understood but he couldn’t surrender. All he knew was that Keith could make everything go away, and that Shiro wanted him to drag him down. “Yes, sir.”

He thought he was prepared. Then the first slap broke across his ribs, and Shiro sobbed.

He fought to keep his body still as the sharp pain echoed around his chest but faded quickly. The second cut across the same bruised skin and seemed to burn, blood rushing to the tender mark. He could feel the heat radiating from where he’d been struck as Keith carefully rubbed the rough leather of his gloves across it. By the fourth strike, it felt like his side was on fire.

Keith had a knack of laying each stripe above the last, crisscrossing the agony. It was like he was being stripped bear, vulnerable and completely at Keith’s mercy. It was an odd feeling, not exactly comfortable, and not one Shiro had ever let himself feel before. It hurt, but the pain heightened everything, making his body feel like one exposed nerve begging to be touched and Keith had promised to take care of him.

The last sharp smack left Shiro winded, sweat beading along his brow as he kept his body taut and unmoving. Keith brushed the silky feathers over the raised red welt, smiling as Shiro gasped. The burn prickled, hypersensitive to the feathers gentle touch. He shifted, the metal buckles on his restraints jangling.

Keith caught Shiro’s face in his hands, still tickling the feathers against his ribs. “I thought I told you not to move. I was clear about my orders.”

“I’m sorry, sir!” Shiro’s voice caught as Keith pressed a knee against his groin. “It was an accident.”

“You’re just a disobedient pet, aren’t you? I think I’ve been too easy on you. I could show you what else my little toy can do.”

Shiro whimpered, a broken, strangled sound that he couldn’t even recognize, then Keith was pulling him in and tucking him under his chin. His fingers combed through his damp hair, petting and soothing, and Shiro groaned into his shoulder. He panted, open-mouthed and sloppy, drooling on the fabric of Keith’s shirt. His chest throbbed with heat, pulsing along the thin lines his sir had lashed into him. Keith’s breath danced across the shell of his ear, as soothing as a balm across his frayed nerves. When he whispered into his ear, Shiro could feel himself slipping away. “We can stop at any time, Shiro. You’ve done so well for me. I’m so proud of you.”

One word and it would all be over. One word and it would all be over. But Shiro didn’t want that.

“Do you want to continue?” He nodded his head, but that wasn’t enough for an answer for Keith. He never raised his voice and he never pulled away, but Keith repeated his question. “Shiro. Answer me. Do you want to continue?”

It took Shiro a second longer to obey.

“Yes, sir.”

Keith cupped his face, and gently wiped along the skin beneath his blindfold. Shiro couldn’t imagine what he looked like. Everything felt so warm, an insistent suffocating heat that licked at his skin. For once he didn’t care.

Keith kissed him again, as sweet as the edge of his crop was cruel, and when he told Shiro he was a good boy, Shiro preened.

One by one, Keith undid his restraints. Shiro’s arms fell limp by his sides. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to move him, until Keith took him by the hand, guided him to his feet. His knees buckled, then locked together, but before he could fall, Keith was there to catch him, pressing close against Shiro, the fabric of his clothes unfamiliar against Shiro’s bare skin. “Hold on, Shiro. I’ve got you.”

Shiro couldn’t remember replying, but they shuffled across the room. Everything felt so much bigger in the darkness, leaving his sense of direction shattered. All at once Keith was pushing him down. Shiro went without complaint.

He was bent over a marble slab. The counter that divided his kitchen from the rest of the house, Shiro remembered, but from a distance. It cooled his aching skin too quickly, and his hands were moved over his head. Keith reattached his restraints.

“I’m giving you one more chance to prove that you can obey orders, pet.” Keith said, walking his fingers down the curve of Shiro’s spine. He let out a breathy sigh as he slid his gloved palms down the same path, sending sparks through Shiro’s nerves. “Beautiful. Do this for me, Shiro? I want to help you let go.”

Shiro let his head drop, resting his forehead against the cool marble with his breath fogging against the stone. He was on fire, his body aching and feverish, but Keith refused to let the sweet torture end.

“Five more.” Keith said, leaning in to press his body against Shiro’s bare back. The words slid down Shiro’s spine, Keith’s breath hot against his sweat stained skin. “But you have to stay absolutely still. If you can manage that, I promise I’ll reward you with exactly what you need.”

Shiro voiced his agreement, Keith wouldn’t act unless he gave his consent. He spread his legs, cock pressed against the edge of the cabinets, so hard that he could feel every beat of his heart in his groin.  _Let go_. Shiro chided himself.  _Just let go_.

“One more thing.”

There was a dribble of something cool and smooth between his ass cheeks. Shiro jolted in surprise, his breath quickening in his chest. It was smooth and thick, and Keith took ff his gloves so he could smear it across his skin was he traced the tight rim of his entrance. Shiro felt his cock jump with anticipation. “Sir?”

He was tight, so tight, Keith pushed in with his finger tip, and everything faded away except the need to stay absolutely still. Keith moved deeper, working open with such agonizing slowness Shiro keened. He was shaking again, mewling softly as he was worked open. Suddenly he could feel something small and smooth pressing into him. A metal bullet, just inside him. Its wire hung between his legs, brushing along the inside of his thighs.

“Hold this for me.”

The bullet started buzzing. Shiro  _whined_.

It moved and jumped him. Too shallow to be satisfying, but so close, so goddamn close. If Shiro could just, if he could just!

“Five more, remember?” Keith asked. “I’m not finished with you pet.’

The first strike of the crop almost made his knees give out. It left a brand against his ass, welt rising immediately as Keith rubbed the mark with his hand to dull the pain before striking again. He clenched down around the bullet, but that only made it feel bigger, made his muscles flex over aching flesh, and Shiro cried out. Every touch of the crop stung and flooded him with adrenaline, only fueling the fire that threatened to consume him from the inside. He longed to wrap his hands around himself, to fuck into the tight familiar grip as his body jolted from each sharp spark of pain. It wouldn’t take much, he was already so close.

Everything blurred into need, wordless and desperate and clawing inside of him. Shiro panted, voice broken as he pleaded for more, needed  _more_. When Keith was done, he sagged against the counter.

“You did so good for me.” Keith said, stroking his hand over the rapidly forming bruises on Shiro’s ass. He only pushed the vibe deeper, its dripping with cum, and Shiro didn’t know how to hold on. “I’m so proud of you. You get your reward for being such a good boy now.”

Shiro tried to thank him, but his tongue felt too thick to speak. Keith was gentle now, mindful of the abused skin as he set down the crop. Everything burned to hot, Shiro groaned as the buzzing inside him was finally silenced. Careful but precise hands held him open and Keith pulled the bullet out slowly, letting it spread him at its thickest before putting it away. Shiro felt so desperately empty.

Then skilled fingers pressed against him until they slipped through the tight ring of muscle. Shiro couldn’t dream of fighting back.

“Relax, there we go. I’m going to make you come for me, that’s what you want.”

“Sir.” Shiro slurred, but his eyes were half lidded. He could feel Keith working deeper, so much deeper than his toy, until the burn of the stretch made his stomach jump, and still all he could do was pant. His thighs buckled, straining to stay standing, then Keith was stroking them. Starting from his hip then moving down to his knee and back up again.

“God, you’re gorgeous. I’m going to take such good care of you, Shiro.” It sounded like a promise. Shiro tensed as teeth bit into his shoulder blade, hard enough to make him squeak, and he clenched tight around Keith’s fingers. His hands were balled into fists, nails digging crescents into the meat of his palm. Another prickle of pain to twist into overwhelming sensation. It was almost enough to make him miss when Keith pulled away. He listened to Keith undress, the clink of his belt too loud as it hit the floor, the rustle of fabric deafening when Shiro couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Feel it Shiro. This is how badly I want you.”

He spread Shiro’s cheeks, looking down where his pet was flushed pink and dripping and dragged his cock along the stretched rim. Shiro moaned, jutting out his hips, just a little.

“Shiro.” Keith whispered, and Shiro could hear the smile in his voice, could imagine the smug satisfaction that radiated off of him in waves. It left him feeling small and needy, hungry for so goddamn much. “Ask nicely.”

It was like a damn had broken, and everything came spilling out of Shiro all at once, desperate, needy keens. Drunken pleas that rounded on each other, words tangling on his tongue as he sobbed out his sir’s name again and again. Please please please he whispered, pushing up on his tip toes, canting like he could coax Keith further. When Keith pushed in, it was like everything he could have wanted.

He was thick and long, spreading Shiro around his shaft until all Shiro could do was take it. His eyes flew open, a new wave of adrenaline biting through his veins as nothing but darkness answered, but he was panting, tongue spilling past his lips like a mutt in heat. Keith was relentless. Fucking into him with long, even strokes that Shiro felt all the way in his belly, taking him apart inch by inch, and Shiro hadn’t stopped begging yet.

“Oh god, Keith! Sir!” Shiro was babbling, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the way Keith filled him until he thought he would burst and the sure, warm hands curled around his thighs. Keith was just as demanding a lover as he’d been when they’d been playing, driving Shiro to the edge and leaving him right on the razor’s edge.

He wiggled his hips, trying to coax Keith’s hands closer so they could ease the need between his legs, but Keith never loosened his grip. Shiro would have to come without being touched or not come at all. Shiro writhed, back arched like he could drive Keith deeper and lost in the bliss of surrender.

Release came like a crash and just as unexpected, his body pulling tight as Shiro forgot to breathe. His hips jerked as he left thick white cum dripping down his cabinets. Keith rode him through it, relentless as he wrung every last drop of pleasure from Shiro’s exhausted, oversensitive body until the blindfold was damp with tears. Shiro groaned in his daze, the last electric shocks of pleasure ringing through his body as the ache heightened each one. He collapsed down against the counter, drooling into the marble as Keith finally slowed.

With a shallow thrust, Keith was coming too, filling Shiro’s abused cunt and letting the slick drops slide down the back of his legs.

Shiro couldn’t see straight. Everything felt heavy. A thick haze settled over his skin, his very nerves scrubbed raw and aching. The earth beneath him swayed gently, just enough to keep him off his feet, and for the first time in a long time, everything was quiet. The incessant worries that drilled through his skull had quieted, and all he felt was empty, like he’d been carved open and taken apart, and all he could think was _thank you._

“Shiro?”

Gentle hands pulled him closer. Shiro tried to ignore them, but they were insistent and strong, and soon he was sinking into Keith’s arms, trapped in a warm embrace. Keith whispered gentle praise into his skin, slowly bringing him back to himself. “You were so good, baby. So good for me. I’m going to take this off now.”

The blindfold slipped away, and Shiro flinched in the bright light of his apartment. A moan caught in the back of his throat, as he flushed with dimmed embarrassment, eyes still tacky with tears. He didn’t know how he could face knowing what he’d done. In the center of the living room. Anyone could have seen him. Keith wouldn’t let him linger. “I’m going to take this off, too, okay? Our scene is over. You were perfect for me, so perfect.”

The collar unfastened, and this time Shiro couldn’t keep back a protest, pleading for more as he chased the promise of Keith’s kiss. He gave in so readily, holding Shiro steady as he kissed him again and again, until Shiro’s frantic heart had soothed and the knot in his belly came undone. Slowly Keith walked him to his bedroom. When Shiro fell into familiar sheets, he thought he could sleep forever.

“Not yet. Not yet, look at me, Shiro.” A water bottle was pressed against his lips, easy for him to suck down. Keith was still playing with his hair. “You back with me now?”

“Yeah.” Shiro’s voice sounded distant to his own ears, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” Keith held the bottle to his lips again and let Shiro drink before setting it aside. He moved away from the bed a moment and Shiro heard the sound of running water briefly before Keith was back with a damp towel, gently helping him clean up and examine the welts across his body. They still stung, but it was a dull ache now, the red already fading. A few might bloom into bruises, but they wouldn’t be anywhere noticeable. It would just be a private reminder of this night whenever he felt the muted throb of pain.

“How do you feel? Was that good for your first time?” Keith seemed concerned and Shiro closed his eyes with a smile.

How did he feel?  _Fantastic._  It was like he’d run a marathon or trained in the Garrison’s combat classes for hours. Everything felt tired and loose, his joints like jelly, and a calm sense of satisfaction that wrapped around him. The normal chatter of anxiety and self-doubt had been silenced, pushed aside in the afterglow. He’d hoped that doing this would be some kind of release, but he had no idea how well it would work.

All thanks to Keith. He blinked his eyes open and reached for him.

Looking at him now, he didn’t seem so professional with his pants undone and his shirt unbuttoned to show off his lean, still-flushed frame. His dark hair stuck in every direction and for a moment, he seemed almost young. Pretty.

“ _Good_. Would you stay, just for a little while?”

Keith hesitated before finally nodding. “I’ll take care of you, Shiro. Just rest now. It’ll all be okay.”

For the first time in a long time, Shiro thought it would be.


	2. Chapter 2

Keith enjoyed control.

It wasn’t that surprising, everyone in his line of work was after the same thing. When he’d been younger, he’d chafed at the rules designed to hold him back and keep him from racing ahead to chase that rush of success no one else could reach. Now that he was in charge, making the rules were so much more fun.

The job had been an accident he’d fallen into to pay his bills. He’d never expected that it would be something he’d be good at, let alone enjoy. But oh, did he enjoy it. There weren’t any confusing mixed signals or complicated emotional pitfalls like in relationships, nothing he did allowed for ambiguity. Every scene was agreed on and every contract was clear, consent was enthusiastic and repeated. Once upon a time, he’d been so afraid that people would leave him and now they came from all over to seek him out specifically. They needed his help and he was more than happy to oblige.

That was the part that he enjoyed the most. The control and the pleasure were intense, but people came to him desperate for help and he could give them someone no one else could. Most of his clients were high powered businessmen, the elite who projected that aura of power and even cruelty but who craved subjugation behind closed doors. They were all the same, but it still felt good to help.

Well, almost all of them were the same.

Keith leaned back in his leather chair until it creaked, ignoring the paperwork on his desk to check his phone. The figure in the video was bathed in shadow, stretched out on crisp white sheets and gloriously naked. His skin gleamed from the sweat of exertion, hands bunched into his sheets, searching for anything to hold on to. His body bowed, spine arching back as his muscles tightened. A soft whimper came through the speaker and Keith smiled.

“Good boy. No touching until I tell you.”  

Shiro turned towards the camera, seeking out the sound of Keith’s voice. Tear stains darkened his blindfold and left his cheeks tacky and splotchy with color. His mouth was obscene, bitten bruised and bright bloody red, like Keith had just spent the last hour using him. He knew just how soft he felt.

“Still with me, Shiro?”

He watched his pet lick his lips, struggling to find his voice. His chest heaved with every uneven breath. His belly was splattered with cum, but his cock lay flushed against it, still an angry thick purple from base to tip. Cuffs of beaten leather wrapped around his ankles, keeping Shiro spread wide enough for Keith to see where his vibrator disappeared inside him. “Yes sir…”

“Good boy.”

He’d been a good boy for hours, since Keith visited him that morning and made him fuck himself on Keith’s favorite toys. Shiro was always such a pretty picture, and prettier still when he bounced on Keith’s cock, sobbing and gasping until  _Keith_ couldn’t take it any longer. He left Shiro filled and sloppy before he’d tied him to his bed, already drooling on his sheets. He’d only gotten worse.

“How does it feel, pet?”

Shiro swallowed, his Adam’s apple jumping as he fought for his bearings. Gravel rough and slurring, Keith almost didn’t recognize him. “Hot it’s… It’s hot. Sticky.”

“You can stop any time.” He promised. No strings attached. No consequences. That was their rule when they played like this. The restraints weren’t locked, and Shiro’s hands were free to remove them whenever he wanted to stop. Across town, Shiro hesitated, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side, and Keith was sure this was going to be the moment he broke. Not when Keith had made him crawl across his apartment, gaping and dripping, or smeared melted wax across his trembling thighs, or whipped his cock so rudely. But this, with just the sound of Keith’s voice holding him in place.

But Shiro shook his head once, then twice with certainty. “Not yet, sir.”

Keith sank into his chair, letting out a slow, measured breath, but he was so goddamn hard, he thought he would come in his pants. He touched himself over his clothes, watching the way Shiro’s chest rose and fell. “I’m going to take such good care of you, baby.”

It was a promise. Shiro smiled beatifically for the camera, and Keith wished he could keep him just like that forever. He was almost perfect. Then Keith turned up the vibrator, and Shiro screamed. It was a broken, strangled thing as he came all over himself. Keith closed out the video. He didn’t turn off the toy.

They’d spent weeks building up to this, slowly working on Shiro’s stamina and his comfort level, making sure he was aware enough to play, making sure he knew how to stop a scene when Keith couldn’t get to him at the drop of a hat. It fed on Shiro’s desire to serve, the thrill he got on focusing on anyone but himself sweetened with the richest rewards. When he was thinking about Keith, he wasn’t thinking about anything else, and that was good for both of them.

Keith glanced at the clock on the edge of his desk and reminded himself, it would be _so good_ for both of them.

He took his time completing his paperwork, double and triple checking his work, because Keith knew he couldn’t think straight to save his life. Then he took a cab to get to Shiro’s apartment, asked the driver to go around the block an extra time and tipped him an extra twenty. He kept his eyes on his phone almost the entire time.

Shiro didn’t notice when Keith let himself into his apartment. But when his bedroom door clicked open, Shiro jolted.

“Look at you, pet.”

Shiro tensed against his binds, then he started struggling, trying to draw up his knees, his hands clawing at the sheets, guttural animal sounds spilling from his lips. Keith watched him struggle, so damn glad he was still recording. “Shiro.”

Shiro whined, panting for breath like a dog, and it took every ounce of willpower to keep Keith in place. “Take off the blindfold first.”

Shiro’s arms were shaking. He couldn’t quite sit up and gave up entirely after the first try. He fought with the blindfold, fingers fidgeting with the knot before he lost patience and yanked it down completely. It covered his collar, sitting around his throat like a noose. His eyes were feverish bright, almost blown entirely black, but he looked at Keith like he’d never wanted anything more.

“Good boy.”

“Please…”

Keith held up his hand, a gentle reprimand that left Shiro sulking. “Remove your cuffs. Right first.”

Shiro was still moving slowly, like he wasn’t sure what parts of himself would listen when he tried to move, but both his legs came free soon enough. He was left splayed open in lewd invitation. Keith choked on his own tongue.

“Come here.”

The order was sharper than he intended, almost a growl, but Shiro scrambled to obey. He tumbled out of bed, legs prickling with pins and needles before his knees buckled and sent him crashing to the ground. Hopeless need left him arrested, staring up at Keith without a trace of shame. And then he crawled.

Keith couldn’t look away, watching as the muscles in his back rippled and moved beneath scared flesh. Shiro’d gone red all the way down his spine, still sticky with sweat, his hips jutted up at a pornographic angle. It was the only way he could keep the vibe inside him. When Keith realized that, he nearly broke.

As soon as Shiro was within reach, he grabbed him by the hair, making his pet yelp and plead. He pressed his face against his crotch, rubbing his cock against Shiro’s cheeks through the fabric of his pants, already leaking into his boxers. Shiro was babbling, sweet nonsense slurring together as he nosed at Keith’s crotch, until Keith grabbed him by the chin, forcing his head up with one hand while the other undid his zipper.

“Open.”

Shiro lived to serve.

He choked Shiro on his cock, his hand wrapped around the back of Shiro’s head, ramming him until his balls slammed against his jaw. His pet gagged and groaned, tears prickling in his glassy eyes, and when Keith pulled out, his mouth didn’t close the whole way. Keith came on him like that, spilling frustration and need across his pretty face. Thick white streaks painted his cheeks, dripping down his nose and clumping his lashes. Shiro was shaking by the time Keith was done.  Keith felt so damn smug.

His pulse racing in his ears, everything too tense and too hot, Keith pressed the heel of his shoe into his sub’s heavy erection. And smiled.

“Ask me to let you come, pet.”

There was something that sparked in Shiro’s hazy, unfocused gaze and Keith loved that about him. No matter how many times they did this, locked away where no one could see them, there was always a thrill when Shiro looked at him like that. When he surrendered himself, trusting and vulnerable in a way that he could never be beyond these closed doors or with anyone else. In this moment, he existed for Keith’s pleasure alone, a heady and intoxicating feeling.

“Please, sir.” Shiro’s voice was sandpaper rough from too many hours on the edge. His body bowed as if with prayer and he gave with a soft groan as Keith put just a little more pressure on his foot. “Please let me come. I-I need…please.”

“What do you need?” Keith asked gently.

“You.” Shiro breathed the word in a quiet sigh, shivering. It was beautiful and profane, Keith’s cock twitched at the sight.

“You’ve been so good waiting for me without touching yourself, let me watch you do it. Show me how pretty you can be.”

Keith removed his foot and Shiro gave a grateful whimper, sitting back on the hard wooden floor. He sprawled back, entire body on display for Keith’s inspection, filthy and gorgeous. Sweat dripped from the ends of his hair as shaking hands wrapped around his cock. Shiro gave a soft, choked cry at the touch of his own hands, every part of his body so oversensitive that the shocks of pleasure echoed with an aching pain.

“Keith!” That wasn’t part of the game. Technically, Shiro had broken the rules calling out for him by name, but Keith was too transfixed to worry about punishment. Shiro called out again, slurring his name like he was begging, still pleading even though Keith had given his permission to let go.

Keith reached into his pocket, finding the remote that had kept him company throughout the day and tormented Shiro just as long. He set it up to its highest setting, and Shiro’s eyes flew open, his mouth twisting around a strangled groan. He squeezed himself harder, rocking back on his hips, his stomach clenching every time he moved until it was just too much. Shiro inhaled sharply, his voice softening around a whispered  _oh_. He came apart all at once, spilling across his chest and thighs, making a mess of himself.

Keith couldn’t breathe.

Then Shiro was pitching forward, boneless and exhausted. Keith caught him before he hit the ground. He let Shiro slump against him, his face tucked into the cut of Keith’s hip, whimpering softly as Keith combed his fingers through his hair. Keith held him until his breathing evened out, and the tremor through his broad shoulders settled. Goddamn it, he was amazing.

“Shiro?” His partner blinked blearily up at him, sweetly pliant and still covered in Keith’s come. It left a wave of pleasure singing through Keith’s nerves, unapologetically proud and just on the wrong side of possessive. He could pose Shiro any way he wanted like this, make him do anything, show the whole world how thoroughly Keith could take him apart. It was a dangerous train of thought. “Are you still with me?”

Shiro hesitated, slowly coming back to himself. He licked his lips, cleaning Keith off of his bruised mouth. Then he nodded. When he tried to stand, Keith was there for him.

“Let me take care of you.” Keith was gentle, taking just as much time and dedication after a scene as he did preparing for one. Now, more than ever, Shiro was vulnerable and Keith would never do anything to betray that trust. He eased his toy out of Shiro, undid his blindfold, then slowly removed his collar. The implications settled around Shiro, and only after Shiro nodded, did Keith move on. He let the taller man lean against him, heavy and solid enough to make Keith brace himself as he slowly led him across the apartment to the bathroom. Later he would clean the floor and change the damp sheets to make things more comfortable, but now his only priority was Shiro.

His client was silent as he smoothed his hands through Shiro’s hair and switched on the shower, letting the water grow warm. Carefully, he helped Shiro unhook his heavy prosthetic. Shiro tensed under Keith’s hands at first, even now sensitive to his loss, but Keith was slow until Shiro relaxed. It wasn’t the first time Keith had helped him.  

Standing there, naked and without his prosthetic, Shiro looked so young. The famous son of a famous family, Takashi Shirogane who was always such a brave leader looked tired and peaceful, too exhausted to hide behind any more masks. Keith traced his thumb along the bottom of Shiro’s bruised lips and smiled.

Keith stripped out of his suit jacket and pulled off his tie, leaving them hanging on the bathroom door as he helped Shiro into the shower. Aching muscles protested and Shiro hissed sharply under the heat of the water, leaning against the cool tiles of the wall.

“Talk to me, Shiro. Tell me how you feel.”

Shiro sighed all the way to his bones, watching Keith with sleepy soft eyes. Then the barest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, and Keith’s heart skipped a beat. “Sore. Like a lot sore. Tired. But good tired. I feel quiet.” A sense of wonderment warmed his tone, and Shiro stretched against the wall, trying to shake free everything that still felt too stiff. He inhaled deeply, scrubbing a hand down his face, but that little smile remained. “I like the quiet. Could you come in? If it’s okay. I like it with you…”

“Yeah. Of course.” Keith said, already toeing off his socks and then his slacks. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this either. He may have liked it just as much as the rest of their games.

He got into place beside Shiro, gently stroking down the panes of his chest. Keith watched as droplets cascaded down his skin, across his broad shoulders and down his arms, stopping abruptly at the end of his stump and jumping off. Shiro came to him when he was ready, bending his head forward so Keith could massage shampoo through his hair, scratching down his scalp as the smell of sweat and sex was replaced by minty clean. With a soft wash cloth, he soaped up Shiro’s back and chest, quietly taking inventory of every growing bruise, differentiating new wounds from old scars. Keith was careful to never break skin, but it never hurt to double check. He really wasn’t complaining about the view.

He washed Shiro’s arms, then got on his knees to clean the mess down Shiro’s legs. Keith was soothing instead of playful, but all he could think about was how this felt like an act of worship and how Shiro deserved no less. Shiro watched him the entire time, subdued but still present. Keith left him alone to rinse off, water sluicing through his hair, his face turned into the spray. Part of him wished he could stay.

By the time Shiro emerged from the washroom, wrapped in fluffy towels and pink from the heat, Keith had finished tidying up. The sheets were pressed and clean, and a set of warm clothes waited for him. Keith knew he should’ve gotten ready to go. He had an extra shirt in his bag, but the idea of stepping back into an oxford was exhausting. Instead he waited in a pair of Shiro’s faded pajamas, well-worn and comfy, and it felt like he was wrapped in a blanket. When Shiro saw him, he stopped in place, inhaling sharply. There was a look in his eyes that said too much.

Keith pretended he didn’t notice.

“Lie down, there’s a couple water bottles on the table. You should finish at least one.”

Shiro threw himself down on the mattress noisily, so greedy for relief now that it was all over before lazily reaching for clothes. “And maybe I could get you to stay for pizza?”

Keith paused before shaking his head and trying not to react to the disappointment on Shiro’s face. This was a job, he had boundaries to maintain. If he didn’t keep a professional distance, then no one would ever trust him with a session again. He would be taking advantage of them for his own selfish wants, that wasn’t how this worked. If he fell down that rabbit hole, Keith might never crawl back out. Besides, he’d gotten into this line of work because it helped avoid those awkward emotional connections with people. He could help without being attached, it was perfect.

It was expected that his clients might develop feelings, what they did was an intimate act far beyond just the sex, he saw them as they truly were after the games had stopped. He offered a service that was more confession than anything and people who craved that connection could maybe hope for a little more, even when it wasn’t there.

“I can stay for a little while to make sure you’re okay.” Keith finally offered, hoping he wasn’t making the wrong decision. Aftercare was part of the job, it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he wanted to crawl in bed with Shiro and fall asleep in the other man’s arms.

“Okay would be having something to eat since some of us were a little tied up today.” Shiro said dryly and Keith had to laugh, finally relenting. When Shiro put it that way, making sure he ate was definitely a part of making sure he was okay after their hours long scene.

“Fine, you win. But no pineapples on it, you heathen.”

“You just say that because you don’t have good taste.” Shiro stretched his aching body back on the bed, worn t-shirt rising just an inch above his belly as Keith licked his lips. He’d seen Shiro naked and debauched, touched every inch of him, but there was something soft about him even when he was completely dressed and tired, not even bothering to reattach his prosthetic.

Something Keith wanted to hold.

“I like you, what does that say?”

Keith watched as Shiro pinked, flustered but grinning through it, and he felt like he’d won something he shouldn’t have. He finished cleaning as Shiro ordered an early dinner, trying to ignore the growing pit that settled in the center of his chest. This time, when Shiro called out for him and reached out with an unsteady hand, Keith went to him, pressing in close as they settled into clean sheets. As the quiet spread between them, Keith stopped trying to convince himself that he was only doing this for Shiro.

“I could go to sleep like this.” Shiro mumbled, as he tucked Keith under his chin. Keith didn’t even put up a fight.

“You better drink something or you’ll feel cranky when you wake up.”

Shiro was grumbling again, but he obeyed, and around them the world seemed to slow. The shadows had stretched across Shiro’s room, the fading light of the setting sun painting everything in a hazy gold. Shiro’s fingers were in his hair, gently combing down the damp strands, and Keith went boneless with satisfaction.

“Is it like this with other doms?” Shiro asked softly. “If there was just… anyone else?”

“If they were any good, they would take care of you.” Keith said sourly. This wasn’t jealousy, this was a job. If he wasn’t performing up to Shiro’s needs, then it was only fair for him to look for someone else. Getting too close to his clients was dangerous, this could solve everything. He moved to pull away, but he was too tangled in Shiro’s embrace to escape.

“No, I-, I just meant. I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.” He coaxed Keith back down, kissing his collarbone in apology. “I don’t really know what I was expecting, but it’s better. I feel better.”

The ugly little knot in Keith’s stomach unraveled slightly and he didn’t want to think too hard about what that meant. He could just enjoy the moment, it was one of the perks of the job. It didn’t mean anything, there wasn’t something wrong with enjoying how soft and pretty Shiro looked when he was happy.  “I could recommend someone?”

“No, I just want you.”

“Shiro, we shouldn’t.” Keith was cut off by a knock at the door and Shiro wriggled free before he had a chance to finish the thought.

“Hey, pizza’s here! That was fast, I’m starving.”

“Shiro. Shiro wait. I’ve got it.”

Keith dragged himself out of bed, far slower than he entirely would’ve liked, but Shiro was all too happy to stretch out across the bed, flopping on his belly and taking over the space Keith had left behind. Keith let himself stare at how Shiro’s ass looked beneath his sweats. Another perk of the job.

Keith grabbed his wallet on the way out, but it wasn’t the delivery man waiting for him outside, unless Shiro had ordered the softest pizza in the world. Standing on Shiro’s doorstep was a large fluffy monstrosity with the warmest brown eyes Keith had ever seen. It barked when he saw them.

“Oh. Hi. Is Mr. Shiro in?”

Keith had been so busy staring at the dog, he hadn’t realized that it wasn’t alone. A young woman with mousy hair looked down at him from behind her thick glasses, even if she was about a head shorter. Keith nodded slowly, like he wasn’t sure if there was a wrong answer somewhere.

“Cool.” She all but shoved the leash into his hand, and gave him a mocking salute. “Furface took a nap so he might be a little energetic tonight. I’ll see him next week.”

Furface barked when he heard his name, his long tail thumping against the door frame like he could shatter it. Feeling thoroughly abandoned, Keith looked down and the beast of a dog booped his nose against his knee. “Furface, huh? What am I going to do with you?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Without warning, Furface got up on his hind legs and tried to hug Keith, only to pluck his wallet out of Keith’s hand and topple them both over.

“Hey!”

“Is everything okay?” Shiro peeked out curiously and then waved at the dogs sitter who waved back before she disappeared down the hall. “I see you’ve met the beast.”

Furface drooled happily as he chewed on Keith’s wallet, sitting on Keith so he couldn’t get up. Keith tried to roll out from under the crushing weight of dog butt. He finally got back to his feet and brushed himself off as the mutt raced around him in excited circles. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” He said flatly.

“Yup, though he’s usually out with the dog sitter when I’m working or busy. He’s got too much energy to just sit around the apartment all day, isn’t that right?” Shiro’s voice softened like he was talking to a baby. “Let me just get him settled and rescue your wallet.” He reached for the dog who jumped back, wagging his tail excitedly.

“I wish I could be surprised.” Keith narrowed his eyes at the playful dog and lunged for it, trying to grapple the wallet from the beast’s mouth. Furface wiggled out of his grasp, barking around his prize before whirling around and racing out of the still open door towards freedom.

Shiro yelped a curse and scrambled after him, tearing out through the hallway barefoot. “Wait! No! Shit shit shit. Come on boy, come back. You don’t want to go out there.”

Furface  _did,_ in fact, want to go out there.

Keith swore.

He sped down the hall at top speed, watching as Furface ran circles around Shiro, sliding between his legs and skidding across freshly waxed floors. Then like it was happening in slow motion, the elevator on the far end of the corridor opened with a cheery ding. Furface froze. Just as Shiro reached for him, grabbing a handful of fuzzy tail, he took off running. “Keith stop him!”

Keith did not stop him. He skidded into the compartment.

The elevator went down.

They shared a twin look of abject horror. And took off running. Keith went first, slamming into the fire escape and taking two stairs at a time, with Shiro hot on his tail. They went floor to floor, always a second too late, and finally caught him in the lobby, leeching attention off of a kindly old grandmother with a bright pink Gucci bag who cooed and fed him peppermint singles.

“Oh my god.” Shiro wheezed, sagging against the nearest wall. “I think I’m going to die.”

Furface wagged his tail happily as he gave Shiro a doggy smile, the old woman ruffling his ears affectionately. “What a sweet boy you have. He’s yours, I assume?”

“Yes.” Shiro gasped for breath, trying to regain his composure. “Sorry about that, he’s usually better behaved.”

“Aww, I think he’s just perfectly behaved, aren’t you?” She cooed at the dog who enthusiastically licked his benefactor as he begged for more treats. She gave him one more for good measure and Furface crunched loudly as he chewed the candy. 

Keith scowled, looking at what was left of his leather wallet. He might be good at telling people what to do in certain circumstances, but it looked like he didn’t have any control or influence over animals. He went to pick up his soggy wallet, but the dog pounced on it, backing away playfully, hunched down with its butt wiggling wildly.

“Just give it back!” Keith demanded as Shiro huffed a laugh. 

“Looks like you need to be a bit more persuasive.” The woman handed Keith her last candy. “Try this?”

Furface went deathly still. Then he charged, roughly a hundred pounds of floppy happy mutt, his tongue lolling out of his face. Keith swallowed back a scream. Once again, he found himself on his back, covered in dog drool and fur, but at least this time, he’d gotten his wallet back.

A sharp, snorting laugh drew his attention, and Keith found Shiro across the room, his face beet red and cheeks straining to fit around his smile. Maybe it was all worth it. Furface trotted back to his owner happily, sticky but satisfied, and Shiro scratched him behind the ear until his eyes unfocused. It was only when Shiro had to pick up his leash that he seemed to come back to himself, his shoulders stiffened self-consciously. His smile didn’t waver, but there was something tentative about it now, something Keith didn’t entirely appreciate. He rushed to Shiro’s side, slinging an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

His bare feet were aching, arms trembling, but Shiro leaned into him the moment he was close enough to reach. Keith’s hand fisted in the hem of his shirt.

“I think I owe you a pizza,” Shiro said, tone intentionally light, but that thread of tension hadn’t faded.

“As long as Furface doesn’t get to it first.”

Shiro laughed, and Keith’s stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with running down dozens of floors. Keith didn’t pull away until they were safely back in Shiro’s apartment. By then, Furface had decided he liked more than just Keith’s wallet.

When Shiro sat down on the couch, Furface squeezed in on top of him so there was no room for anyone else, content to think that he was an enormous lap dog. Shiro was indulgent, letting the mutt take over as he aimlessly rubbed behind Furface’s ears. “Sorry about all of this, I didn’t realize how late it was. I know he can be a little bit much.”

“No.” Keith said just to be contrary as he flopped himself down on Shiro’s other side and not so subtly fought for space.

“His name is Reginald Bartholomew Abernathy III, but he just goes by Furface, don’t you?” Shiro cooed at the dog. “He helps me out sometimes, he’s my service dog.”

Shiro didn’t elaborate and Keith didn’t ask, but he perked suddenly, not sure if he should be concerned by the sudden rush of worry for Shiro’s well-being. This whole afternoon had crossed a line and it was obvious now. He should have left as soon as he was sure Shiro was alright. This was his job and Shiro was his client, even if they played at intimacy, that’s all it was. The second emotions were involved, then things would all fall apart. He should go, make his escape now and figure out if he should coordinate with another Dom to handle Shiro’s case. It would be best for all of them before Keith was compromised.

“Hey, so. If you’re not doing anything tonight, I do owe you pizza. And a new wallet. And maybe a movie or two?” Shiro asked as if it was the most natural thing in the world and Keith couldn’t bear to be the one who stole his smile. Not when staying sounded so nice.

It wasn’t until hours later that Keith realized how much trouble he was in. They’d they had curled together on the couch beneath a sleeping dog, empty pizza boxes strewn around the apartment and the movie long forgotten as Keith had found how perfectly his body fit with Shiro’s. When they kissed, it was different. Soft, gentle, exploring each other slowly but burning with a need both of them held restrained. It felt more intimate somehow, all of Keith’s masks stripped away. There was no reason to melt in Shiro’s arms except for the most important, that he wanted to be there. They never moved beyond kissing and somehow, when Keith walked home through the dark, rain-chilled streets, he felt as awkward and excited as a teenager with their first crush.

Keith couldn’t stop smiling.

His good mood lasted throughout the night and through most of the next morning. Everything felt simpler somehow, just lighter, even if Keith had to remind himself not to think too much about Shiro’s next appointment (it was eight days away, eight whole days). It lasted all the way through a meeting with a new client, then his boss walked in with a copy of the morning paper, looking far too concerned.

On page six was a picture of Keith, blurry but clearly recognizable. Barefoot and ruffled, he chased Furface across every panel, before walking away with his arm slung across Shiro’s waist. The title was, rather predictably, ‘Dog Days.’ Keith didn’t know why that made him feel so angry.

“I figured you should hear this from me.” Allura Altea was a vision in pressed leather and artful lace. A professional domme who’d made a name for herself both in and out of their circles, she ran Refuge with a sweet smile and an iron fist. She was pretty damn distracting. “Has anyone called about the Shirogane account yet?”

Keith shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the article. The pictures weren’t enough, they’d included an interview with the old woman in the lobby who’d referred to them as a “nice couple.” Worse was the last line of the article: A spokesman for the Shirogane family had no comment.

 _Oh god_.

Discretion was everything in their business, they represented the secret wants and needs of their clients. They were supposed to be unnoticed and protect their clients from being picked apart in the tabloids or judged by a puritan public. If their work went public, than a client’s reputation could be ruined completely, which would be bad for business, and here he was with his face in the paper and his arm around Takashi Shirogane like they were on some kind of date.

“I have to call him.” Keith had to make sure he was okay, his family knew about him but they might not know about their arrangement or Keith’s work. He had to figure out how to minimize the damage.

“You have to call him and then lay low.” Allura said sternly. “We can’t have this kind of publicity attached to our company, if this erupts into a full-fledged scandal, then you’ll have ruined that boy’s career and your own. What were you thinking, Keith? You’re always so much more careful than this.”

“I don’t know, it was an accident.” Keith closed down, walls slamming into place to protect his emotions behind a cold mask. That wasn’t true, he knew that stay had been a bad idea and had done it anyways. He’d let himself be swayed by a pretty face and gentle heart into thinking, just for a moment, that he could have more than what was written in their contract. This was all his fault, a client was expected to form a close attachment, he was the one who let things get out of control. Yet he was less angry about that and more angry that someone had taken a picture of Shiro without his prosthetic, because he knew that Shiro was still so uncomfortable about his injury.

“Make this right.” Allura tapped one perfectly manicured nail on the paper. “Now.”

Keith started dialing before Allura left the room, but it went straight to voice mail. So did his next two calls. If he wasn’t worried before, he was worried now. He knew Shiro was still struggling to get back on his feet. He knew Shiro was fighting to find a place he belonged and what little Shiro told him about his family already spoke of too much friction. If Keith had ruined everything for him, Keith promised he would do everything in his power to fix it. He didn’t want Shiro to get hurt. And more importantly, he didn’t want this to be the reason Shiro walked away.

Yet when he finally got a hold of Shiro, it was because Shiro called him. Keith didn’t expect that. Nor did he expect Shiro to sound so happy.

“Hi, sorry, it’s been a day.”

Shiro sounded cheerful, but Keith talked over him in a long exhale. “Are you okay?”

“I guess you read the paper.” There was an edge of bitterness to Shiro’s tone that Keith couldn’t say he liked, but it was gone the next moment, carefully tucked away with all the other things that lined Shiro’s shoulder with tension. “Don’t worry. I’ve done worse. When I was eighteen I tried to become an astronaut.”

“How is that worse?”

“I dunno, but everyone liked to bring that up after the accident. At least this way, they get new material to work with.”

“ _Shiro-”_

“I’m okay.” Softer now, more timid. “Are you? Is this going to be a problem?”

“We shouldn’t be seen together.” Keith said, all business though his insides roiled unhappily. He was going to miss Shiro, not just the sessions, though he was going to miss that a  _lot_. There were few things better in the world than Takashi Shirogane rasping his name as Keith made him work for his release. But it was also the quiet moments afterwards when Shiro was sleepy and soft, it was the dry sarcastic wit, the hopeful smile, the brave face he put out into the world, his awful taste in movies and dogs. He was going to miss the way Shiro could make his heart thud with just a single kiss.

“Actually, that won’t be a problem.”

Huh, Shiro was taking this easier than he thought. “Good. Fine.”

“No, I mean I wanted to invite you to this charity dinner on Friday. It’s one of the big events of the year, pretentious, boring, full of rich society people who talk about how great their golf game is and how  _concerned_  they are with whatever they’re raising money for this year.” Keith could almost hear Shiro roll his eyes. “It’s a masked event, I was hoping you would come with me.”

That wasn’t quite what Keith had been expecting after seeing the story in the paper. “I thought you didn’t want any service in public.”

“It’s not service it’s…I don’t want you there as my dom, Keith. I want you there as you. With me. Trust me, you’ll be saving me from an awful lonely evening being pawed over by the city’s most eligible singles who are willing to overlook a recent scandal or two.”

“Shiro, you should be keeping a low profile if you don’t want any attention. This isn’t.” Keith ground out, like if he spoke any slower, Shiro would notice what was fundamentally wrong with his decisions.

“There’s nothing I could do that’d draw more attention than actually talking to someone. They’re all looking for a chance to call me a train wreck. At least this way, I won’t confirm it.” Shiro answered, infuriatingly calm and just a touch vicious. “Come on Keith. At least this way, I’ll be with someone I like. Please?”

There was a hopeful edge to his voice that Keith wished he didn’t hear. He was probably imagining it anyway, reading into too much because he wanted to, but he still owed Shiro for his fuck up. When he was on call, Keith should’ve been able to see this sort of shit happening. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had enough time to think while they were going floor to floor for Shiro’s dumb dog.

When Shiro asked like that, Keith didn’t think there were many people who could turn him down.

“We’re leaving early.”

“Of course we are!” Shiro laughed, and Keith felt it all the way down to his toes. “Thanks, Keith. I really owe you one.”

As Keith hung up, he had a feeling Shiro owed him a lot more than one.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was always a man with a plan, that was plain to see. Especially when he sent a sleek black car to pick Keith up. The box in the back seat was a nice touch. It was trimmed in a copper silk ribbon. Keith couldn’t help but smile as he untied it and pulled out a beautiful wolf mask, lightweight and lined in black and red. No wonder no one would see them together, Shiro really did think of everything.

It made Keith a little more nervous than he wanted to admit.

The crowds were already gathering by the doors to the city art museum, blocked off for the rich and elite to play in tonight. The walkway was lined in paparazzi snapping pictures of the guests in their finery. Keith checked to make sure his mask was in place and straightened his suit before striding past them all without stopping. They didn’t need to know who he was. The problem now was finding Shiro.

Keith paused at the entrance to the main hall swarming with glittering people, laughter, and bright lights strung among the artwork. He should feel right at home. Even if he wasn’t one of them, he would bet that behind their masks and expensive suits, a fair number had knelt at his feet. The more powerful they were, they more they craved his service.

“Looking for someone?” A tall man slipped into place beside him, face hidden behind a sleek fox mask with touches of silver and black. His suit was tailed perfectly to his body from his broad shoulders to his narrowed waist. Even with the mask, Keith would know him anywhere.

“I think I just found him. Nice touch, Shiro.”

A familiar smile greeted him, but beneath that wicked mask, it sent sparks through his nerves.

“Thanks. I figure the more I hide, the less convincing I have to be when people ask if I’m enjoying myself. I’d have gone full Vader, but apparently that’s in poor taste.” Shiro said, tone just wry enough to hint at the frustration he’d swallowed. He reached out for Keith’s arm, gloved hand sitting comfortably in the crook of Keith’s elbow.

“Shove a set of plastic fangs under that mask and you can get out of talking with anyone.”

Shiro snorted. “Next time. Come on, let’s get this show over with. If I end up looking like a tool, promise to let me live it down?”

“Absolutely not.” Keith laughed, and it was worth it just to see Shiro pink beneath his mask. He figured he’d need to pull Shiro out if things got awkward, or would very suddenly need to make Very Important phone calls throughout the night. He was wrong.

Shiro didn’t walk into the room like he was the most important person in it, but he’d certainly come to play. It was in the way he spoke, his voice gone deep and solemn, the way his smile pinched with no real humor, better than any mask. His head held high, posture straight enough to show off those broad shoulders, he moved like he expected to be seen and welcomed the opportunity. It wasn’t long before someone took advantage of it.

“Shirogane!”

They were approached by a mousy haired man in a bright green mask that vaguely reminded Keith of someone. Shiro tensed, but his smile never wavered.

“There are a couple of us here. You sure you got the right one?”

“Don’t worry, Small Fry. I’d recognize that fringe anywhere. What’re you doing? I figured you’d be in full cyborg. Really sell the part.” He laughed at his own joke. Shiro didn’t. “And who’s this guy?”

“Keith, meet Matt Holt.” Shiro shifted to unconsciously hide his metal arm from sight, but his tone never wavered. “Matt, this is Keith.”

Matt nodded vaguely. In fact, vague seemed to be a good word for him. He seemed perpetually distracted, only half invested in any conversation as his attention skipped to the party and back again. “Is he how they’re keeping you away from moon rocks now? Might have to make a few calls to NASA myself.“ He tipped Keith an exaggerated wink. "You wanna see my rocket?”

Shiro flinched, but he laughed Matt off just the same. “Not everyone can be bankers. You know, Pidge’s doing good for herself.”

“Sure. Don’t let Dad hear you. We actually want her to do something with her life.”

“More than experimental engineering? She’ll be finally putting all those Holt brains to good use.” Shiro wielded words like weapons, dropping compliments laced with barbs with natural ease. In the murky waters of high society, he was a shark.

Matt barked out a laugh that reminded Keith too much of a jackal, and when leaned in to clap Shiro on the shoulder, Keith felt Shiro tense. “Hey don’t let Iverson catch you. He wants to talk about some vacation to the Hamptons this summer for a few weeks and he’s going to bring all of his daughters too. But if your sister doesn’t ease up on Wall Street, Dad might start tryina poach you too.”

Shiro winced behind the mask. Old blood was still worth something, even with a few blemishes and a media uproar. The old families knew that everyone had a few skeletons in their closets better than most, and had the experience to close ranks until the storm died down. If it meant keeping power and influence tightly controlled where they thought it belonged, then it didn’t matter what flaws a partner might have as long as it stayed behind closed doors. It was all just so…pragmatic.

“Thanks.” Shiro muttered as Matt waved him off. “This might be worse than I thought. I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s fine. You okay? We can just leave.” Keith offered but Shiro shook his head.

“No, better to get this over with. Don’t worry, I can handle this.” The only sign of his stress was the slight set to his jaw, something Keith was looking for. Otherwise, he was the perfect gentlemen, smiling even beneath his mask as he navigated the room with ease. Most people didn’t recognize Shiro behind the fox which helped, but the ones who did were always greeted with a firm handshake and the time for a small, personal conversation. Shiro seemed to know just about everyone, remembering little bits of their lives and asking about children or after the success of their most recent business projects. He was charming, confident, born to control this room. It was exhilarating to see him in his natural element.

Keith followed at his side, never contributing to the conversation beyond a murmured greeting, but Shiro always kept introducing him as if his presence here mattered and he was a real guest.

But the tension in his jaw tightened with every passing moment, and the look in his eye just seemed to sharpen. When Keith tugged on Shiro’s hand and dragged him away, Shiro sighed in relief. Keith snagged a couple of champagne flutes on the way out, something ridiculously expensive and just sweet enough to notice. Then he bullied Shiro out of the hall, finding an empty conference room down a quiet corridor. He closed the door behind them.

“Oh god.” Shiro mumbled, sagging against the closest wall. His voice gave away too much, and without his polished smile, his mask seemed to sag in its place. Underneath his mask, he scrubbed a hand over his mouth, tensing when he noticed he’d used his right. The glove annoyed him in more ways than he could say, inciting feelings that twisted unhappily in the center of his chest. He didn’t want to be ashamed of the accident, but he couldn’t bring it in himself to be proud of it either.

Suddenly there was a flute dangling beneath his nose, and when he looked up, a bright-eyed wolf was staring down at him.

“Don’t just say you’re okay, I can tell.” Keith said with a frown as Shiro laughed softly and took the glass, stripping his mask off.

“I’m that easy to read?”

“No, I’m just good at it.” Keith said matter-of-factly. It was true, he’d spent long enough trying to memorize Shiro’s moods and the little tells when his calm was fraying around the edges. It was clear if you cared enough to pay attention and Keith cared more than enough. He pulled his mask off as well, skin flushed from the heat.

“I guess you are. Sorry, it’s just a little much sometimes. It’s a lot to balance and you always have to be  _on_. I’m fine though, glad for the break.” Shiro was absolutely candid, there was no reason to lie now. Keith had seen him at his most vulnerable, he was the one person that Shiro wouldn’t have to pretend with.

“You don’t have to do this.” Keith hid his scowl behind his glass as Shiro chuckled again.

“Yes I do, everyone’s got to know that Kooky Shirogane isn’t running around town barefoot. I’ll be okay, you just learn how to deal.”

Shiro shrugged off his own discomfort or exhaustion like it was nothing and Keith frowned, setting down his glass and grabbing Shiro by the tie, tugging him closer. “You shouldn’t have to learn how to deal.”

“Everyone does, you do what you have to do, especially when people are counting on you. I’m used to it, that’s just how things are.” Shiro said, but his voice dropped, a low growl as Keith tightened his grip.

“Then maybe you deserve a break. Something to help you relax.”

“Keith.” Shiro said his name by a sigh, a shaky breath as his exhaustion switched to want in the span of a single heartbeat. “I didn’t invite you here to work, I just wanted to spend time with you. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“Shiro. Only one of us is taking one for the team,” Keith replied, voice soft but viciously sure. Every second between stretched out into a life as Keith pulled him closer inch by agonizing inch, twisting his expensive cashmere tie around his knuckles. He felt Shiro’s breath hitch, his eyes fluttering shut, and when Keith was done, his words kissed the curve of Shiro’s pretty little mouth. “And it isn’t me.”

Shiro gasped.

Keith made sure his mouth was too busy to do anything else. He shoved his partner against the wall, tightening his grip just enough that Shiro whined, struggling for air as Keith took him apart with slow measured strokes. Shiro choked on his name, his arms wrapped tight around Keith’s shoulders and sliding up to tangle in his hair. He was eager, so goddamn eager. There was a power to him, an unwavering strength that Keith felt in the way Shiro held him close, and sometimes he wondered how much of this was Shiro not knowing his own strength, or Shiro letting himself be pinned. But Keith was still calling the shots.

Keith could feel the moment that Shiro let go and the anxiety drained from his body. He’d been so in control and poised since they’d arrived and now Keith could take that worry for him, promising him a moment of peace. Shiro leaned into him, straining for his touch as Keith kissed him hard. He’d have to be careful, they couldn’t play too rough here or someone might notice the bruised lips. A shame. Maybe when the dinner was over, he could go back to Shiro’s apartment and get his fill.

“I could make you get on your knees, but you might ruin that thousand dollar suit.” Keith said softly as Shiro shuddered. “Maybe you’d like that. I could fuck your mouth and make you swallow every drop before you leave and no one out there would know what you’ve done. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” Shiro breathed, panting slightly. Keith rewarded him with another kiss, slow and thorough, taking him apart and leaving him desperate for more.

“I’m going to take care of you, Shiro. Just listen to me, it’s all going to be alright.”

He slipped a leg between Shiro’s calves. Never gave an order, but Shiro canted against him anyway, straining against those tailored pants. The angle was all wrong for any leverage, and Shiro’s grip couldn’t help him, but that didn’t stop him from rolling his hips, didn’t stop the dark blush that stained his cheeks. “If I’d brought my toys, I’d let you walk out there plugged up and dripping. Would you like that, Shiro?”

Shiro let out a soft, breathy noise, his eyes going dark with want. Keith reached between them, grabbing through his clothes, and his entire body shuddered, his grip tightening in Keith’s jacket.

“Their polished professional. I wonder what they’d think of you if they knew you were mine. If they could hear the way you begged for me.”

Shiro slipped away from Keith, just a little, just enough that Keith knew to switch gears, soothing his palm down the line of his cock. He distracted him with another kiss, working until his mouth slackened sweetly, letting Keith take everything he wanted, and Keith was too greedy to stop.

“Or maybe I’ll keep you all to myself.”

The lights went on all at once. “Oh sorry, didn’t know this one was taken,” a drunk voice slurred, laughter following in its wake. The door’s hinges squeaked close in the same breath, but it was too late. They were already jumping away from each other as if they’d been burned.

Shiro scrambled to get his mask back in place, but it was too late. “Takashi Shirogane?” There was another burst of too-loud laughter from behind the intruder. “Oh man, I just saw you in the paper! You kinky bastard.” The drunk man waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Mind if we join in?”

“It’s not…that’s not what’s going on.” Shiro drew himself up, every inch the impeccable high society scion, falling back on his innate dignity to cover for his humiliation, but Keith could see the hidden strain. His fault again.

He knew better than to come here like this, he should have trusted his instincts and Allura’s warnings to stay away. He’d broken protocol and gotten too close to a client, crossing that line from professional into relationship, and these were the consequences. His carelessness had damaged Shiro’s reputation twice in as many days and there was no way to escape unscathed. The best they could hope for was some drunk with a poor memory slinging unfounded rumors and gossip.

“Come on.” He grabbed Shiro’s hand and dragged him from the room as the man protested, pulling Shiro back towards the main ballroom. “If people see you there for the rest of the night, no one will believe anything that drunk idiot says.”

“Keith, it’s fine. It was a mistake and we’ll get through it.”

“Just go. I’m going to leave, better if no one remembers you with another man tonight, it’ll help dismiss the rumors.”

“No!” Shiro’s hand tightened in his own. “They’re going to whisper about me no matter what I do, this crowd thrives on scandal. I can handle this, just stay.”

“Shiro-”

“Keith please.” He rounded on Keith, sounding far more hopeful than Keith was ready for. There was a new tension in the way Shiro held himself, a resignation in his stance that Keith wasn’t altogether unaware of. He should have stopped him when he had the chance. “I want you to be with me. I. I like it when you’re around. I like being with you. You’re the only one who understands me. You’re the only one who cares about who I really am, and it’s just…”

Keith knew he should have been more surprised, but it was impossible to be. There was something awfully unhappy in how similar this was to his own troubles. “Shiro, stop. Please. This was a mistake.” He said, and he had to watch the way Shiro’s expression crumbled. His heart was hammering in his chest, but an eerie sense of calm had settled over Keith’s skin. This was what he was supposed to be doing. He’d been warned before. He’d seen it happen. “I’m good at what I do, and I know you because you asked me to know you.”

Keith felt like a coward, because when Shiro looked away, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re a great guy, Shiro. But I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t being contracted.”

“You don’t mean that.” Shiro said, but doubt crept into his voice and Keith was glad. It didn’t hurt any less.

“I’m going to end our contract, Allura can recommend a different company to meet your needs.”

“Keith no, you know it wasn’t just a job. I like  _you_ , I know you never played outside a scene. You came here tonight just because I asked you!” Shiro’s heart was breaking, the pieces grinding painfully in his chest with each breath, but he kept himself calm and in control. He was good at burying the pain deep enough not to show, not here in public where there were eyes to see. Had he truly misread the situation this badly? He’d thought that the little moments they shared, on the clock and off, had meant something. There was more than just the service or his contract, he’d fallen bit by bit and Keith had stayed when he’d asked when he wasn’t working anymore. It hadn’t just been for money.

“I’m done.”

“Keith, wait. Please, don’t go. We can figure this out, I don’t want to lose you!”

“Goodbye, Shiro.” Keith didn’t give him another look, turning on his heel and breezing out of the gallery. He didn’t have to turn around, he knew Shiro’s mask would fall back into place and he’d continue on like nothing had happened. It’s what he was good at. Hopefully, that would mean he’d survive the scandal unscathed.

Keith didn’t think he’d be so lucky.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Keith stared at his phone and hoped it would ring. He wouldn’t answer it, he hadn’t each time Shiro had called, but that didn’t stop him from hoping. It hadn’t taken long for Shiro to get the hint, he was a nice guy after all, but there was something nice about knowing he was there on the other line. Keith knew he was being selfish and unreasonable. How long could he expect Shiro to chase after him when he made it clear that he would never respond?

He couldn’t. Not with Shiro’s face splashed all over Page Six for the better part of a week. There was nothing the public loved more than watching the rich and famous fall, especially when it came to stories of sex and perversion. The Shirogane family had closed ranks, but it didn’t stop the ugly speculation and rumors that filled the gossip magazines.

And it was all Keith’s fault.

Shiro had come to him with a need and stripped himself bare, Keith had promised to take care of him. Instead, he’d let himself fall for a client and got careless. He thought he could fulfill his contract and give Shiro that peace he’d been looking for, but also be a part of Shiro’s life. A friend, a partner, something more. He’d let the lines blur, forgetting it was supposed to be about what Shiro wanted instead of what  _he_  wanted, and Keith knew he’d let Shiro down. He couldn’t deny that he let himself down, too.

He supposed it was only fitting that his work was suffering now, too. Keith had dropped all his meetings with new clients, and a few of his regulars seemed wary about returning. There had been no cancellations yet, but if the Shirogane story didn’t die down, there would be. He couldn’t say he blamed them. People specifically sought him out because of his low profile. Even if the option to market his services towards the mainstream community was always available, Keith couldn’t say he would ever take it. That wasn’t the sort of work he wanted to do. The stress of a single scandal was already giving him ulcers; there was no way Keith wanted to actively be in the news.

Yet he couldn’t tear himself away from the circus.

When he wasn’t looking at his phone, he was looking at his laptop. Online, a dozen gossip blogs were sharing the same footage of the latest ‘twist’ in the Shirogane story. Keith wouldn’t call it much of a twist. Shiro wasn’t even doing anything worth watching, just trying to walk his monster of a dog, but the paparazzi wouldn’t stop hounding him. The entire spectacle made Keith want to punch someone. Preferably someone holding a camera.

“Are you still watching?”

“No.” Keith hadn’t even heard Allura open his door, but he slammed his laptop shut. He liked to think he looked at least somewhat convincing.

“You’re really terrible at lying.” She said as she sat in one of Keith’s office chairs, peeling down her elbow length gloves with a finesse Keith envied. For someone so young, she was one of the most well-known dominatrixes in their line of work. She thrived in the spotlight as much as Keith turned from it, enjoying the high profile notoriety and scandal. There were clients who preferred privacy, and then there were clients who preferred the thrill of someone who shone a bit brighter. Allura was dedicated in her work and to her clients, but a skilled diplomat in front of the camera able to turn crude suggestive innuendo into informative, passionate interviews.

Keith had no idea how she managed with so much dignity, especially when she was just as likely to kick her heels up and giggle behind closed doors. He didn’t count many friends in his life, but Allura was at the top of the list. That didn’t mean he wanted her help now.

“I am not.” Keith said, lying terribly again as Allura smacked him in the face with her glove.

“I’m not blind or stupid, Keith. I know this all went sideways, but it’s going to be okay.”

Keith scowled into his paperwork. He refused to touch his cheek, his hand clenched around his pen before smacking it against the top of his desk. “I did this to him. How is it ever going to be okay?”

“It’s the risk of getting in too deep with a client. It was a mistake, but it’ll blow over eventually. You’ll manage, we’ll see if we need to modify your client list depending on how much screen time you get. If Mr. Shirogane is still interested in our service even after all this, I’ll handle the reassignment to someone who can better suit his needs.” She said as gently as possible.

 _He was perfect with me._ The words danced dangerously on the tip of his tongue, and Keith scowled harder into his table, until the words on his binder blurred together and he wasn’t sure what language it was all in. “Yeah like who?”

“Lance has a few schedule openings, and the contrast might be good for him.”

Maybe there was more Allura said, but Keith couldn’t tell because the moment she dropped Lance’s name, Keith was frothing at the mouth. “Lance?!” He snapped. “You’ve got to be kidding! He’s an asshole! He never takes anything seriously. Shiro would hate it!”

Allura leveled him with a thoroughly unimpressed stare, and when Keith looked down, there was a messy ink stain on his hand. That about summed up.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m perfectly serious.” Allura said unwaveringly. “I know Lance can be brash, which is why pairing him up with a client like Shiro would be good for them both. It’ll give Lance some much needed experience and calm, and he’ll be able to adjust to keep up with Shiro’s requests. Besides, even if he’s a little unpolished, Lance is good at watching for signs of distress. He’s consistently careful and always makes sure that his client gets the care he needs during and after a session.”

“This is the worst idea and you know it.” Keith was out from behind his desk in a minute and pacing with rage. This was unacceptable. Of course Shiro should be able to have another Dom if he wanted one, he was the client and Keith was just…they weren’t working together anymore, so he shouldn’t be standing in the way. But  _Lance_? The guy criticized his every move, following him around with a made-up rivalry and getting under his skin.

Shiro deserved better, at least that’s what Keith told himself. It made the lie easier to swallow.

“What I know is that Lance is going to do a great job and I’ve already made the suggestion to Mr. Shirogane when he called the main line. After what happened, I’m still surprised he’s interested in working with us, but I told him Lance would be able to set up an appointment with him shortly.”

“What?!”

This was - no. Keith could not do this. Keith refused to do this.

“Keith where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Allura snapped, and it sounded an awful lot like, ‘ _You’re acting like a five year old.’_

“Yeah.” Keith said. 

But who would he be if he let something like that stop him?

 

* * *

 

“You know, if we looked any more domestic, the gossip rags will start counting down the days to our impending wedding.” Pidge said dryly as she strolled through the park with Shiro at her side. Furface ran around them in excited circles, distracted every three seconds by some fluttering leaf or quacking duck out in the pond where he couldn’t each. A stray breeze ruffled the edge of her dress and she smoothed it down unconsciously.

“Isn’t that sort of the point?” Shiro stretched, looking completely at ease. He always did, he was born to this life and as much as she loved him, sometimes Pidge resented that too. He was never awkward or afraid, at least not where anyone could see. Even with his reputation in shambles, he never gave any indication he was worried.

“Yeah, I guess. Doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.” She bent to pick up a stone and skipped it over the surface of the water. Furface lost his mind, diving into the water to try and find the stone and sending ducks scattering in every direction.

“It’s going to be okay, everything will die down in a couple of weeks and they’ll be on to the next scandal. You  _know_  that someone is cheating with their nanny or someone’s going through a messy divorce, it’ll all be old news. People have short memories about these things.” Shiro shrugged one shoulder, managing a pretty good facsimile of a genuine smile. “Besides, it’s not like I was caught with my pants completely off or something. It could have been worse.”

Pidge squeaked, heel caught on a bit of uneven cement and she pinwheeled to keep in place. The sound  twisted into a heated snarl until she was more than ready to throw her shoes in after Shiro’s dog, but Shiro stopped her with a careful hand on her shoulder. She exhaled noisily through her nose, trying to unruffle her own feathers, and asked between gritted teeth, “They still there?”

“Yeah. Three of them now. Come on, gimme those.” Pidge looked doubtful, but Shiro shrugged away her concern. “Just trust me.”

She toed off her heels, smoothing down her dress, and Shiro picked them up. With an arm around her waist, he led her to a bench overlooking the pond, and they got prime seats to watch Furface attack the water with his entire body. Even Pidge had to admit it was cute move. If it hadn’t been so contrived, she might’ve been worried.

“Nice one.” She grumbled, as she turned to Shiro, draping her legs over his lap. She hadn’t bothered to shave, but that wasn’t what this arrangement was about. “If I could figure out how Matt did it, maybe I wouldn’t have to look like a fucking iced cupcake whenever we needed a few pictures snapped.”

“I thought you liked this dress.” Shiro frowned, with such genuine concern that Pidge had to smile. And she did like it. It was purple and breezy, and just ruffled enough that it swished around her knees when she walked. What she didn’t like was being told to put on the ’ _prettiest_ ’ thing she owned and parading around like a trained monkey.

“It’s not a dress day. Don’t apologize.” She grumbled, just as Shiro opened his mouth to do exactly that. “It’s hard enough getting everyone’s schedules to work as it is. I just… I hate this sometimes.”

“I know.” They shared a silence, each thinking about their own situation without saying a word. After his multiple scandals, connections to Pidge’s family helped repair his image somewhat while the Shiroganes owing someone a favor was always a worthy prize. For Pidge, things were a little more complicated. “They love you, even if they make mistakes sometimes.”

“I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not, I spent too much of my life doing that alright?” She scowled wiggled her feet, choosing comfort over dignity every time. “Can’t we just tell everyone this is stupid?”

“They’re doing this because they love you. Besides, it’s not  _too_  terrible to spend time with me, right?” Shiro teased lightly, but Pidge’s mood refused to lighten.

“If they loved me, wouldn’t they bother asking what I want? You know I love hanging out with you, Shiro, but I want to do it on my own terms instead of some preplanned photoshoot to show off how much of a ‘real’ lady I am. I can be just as much of a lady in my sweat pants binge watching on your collection of zombie movies. I’m comfortable with who I am, why aren’t they?”

“They don’t want you to get hurt.” It was true, but they both knew it wasn’t enough. Furface gave up on the rock and dragged a soggy stick longer than he was out of the pond to drop it by Shiro’s feet. He gave a drooling dog smile before bouncing back into the water and barking loudly. The pair couldn’t help but laugh as Shiro carefully nudged the muddy stick away from the hem of his pants. “Just give it some time, they’ll come around.”

“Like they did with you?” The question was sharper than Pidge meant and she quickly apologized. “Sorry.”

Shiro shrugged, and sometimes, Pidge wished he’d hold off on forgiving her, just so she could be more mad at him. Except she didn’t really want that.

“You know, I get it. I do. It’s not just them. There’re too many stupid ideas about how femme is enough, and too many idiots who think this whole thing was a publicity stunt, but.” Pidge exhaled deeply, taking off her glasses and wiping them on the bodice of her dress. “I thought I was done with pretending.”

“They are on your side.” Shiro said, and he really tried to sound like he meant it. “You know the kind of people we know. It can be risky to be yourself sometimes. They just think it’s safer this way.”

Pidge stared down at her toes, kicking at the grass. The first time she’d bought those shoes, she’d felt so proud. They’d been an impulse buy from one of those fancy boutiques that always smelled nice and never seemed to hold her interest for very long. She used to save them for special occasions, for when she wanted to feel tall, or when she thought about painting her nails. They were supposed to be a part of her, not all of her. Nowadays, she didn’t like thinking about them at all.

“Don’t you think I should have a say in what I’m willing to risk?”

“You should.” Shiro admitted softly. He didn’t have a solution for that, but he wrapped an arm around Pidge’s shoulders and pulled her in. Pidge thought he gave pretty awesome hugs.

“Hey,” Shiro added at length, and their furry chaperone had finally trotted back, flopped across their feet like a carpet. Pidge looked up. “Wanna get them mad?”

She grinned. Then Shiro slowly, deliberately got off the bench and knelt in front. He took one of Pidge’s hands in his, smiling from ear to ear.

“Katie Holt.” He said, very seriously as he reached into his pocket. “Do you want a mint?”

Pidge burst into giggles, wrapping her arms around Shiro’s neck and giving him a tight hug. They could almost hear the shutters snapping from the hidden photographers. Tomorrow’s gossip section was going to be interesting. “Your parents are going to kill you for this!” She snorted.

“After everything, I think they’d be relieved this is the worst I’ve done today.” He helped Pidge to her feet and she leaned against him affectionately.

“One of these days, Shiro, you’re gonna finally snap and stop giving a damn about all this pretending.” She teased, elbowing him in the ribs.

“What, before you have a chance for your grand public display of defiance?” He acted shocked and earned himself another sharp elbow between his ribs.

“I’m just saying, if you don’t do it, I will. Especially because the only thing I want to do right now is go get dirty with widdle Furface, isn’t that right?” She abandoned her friend to coo over the damp dog until he flopped over in the mud and she scratched his belly. “That’s right! You want to come home with your favorite babysitter for a bath tonight, don’t you? Yes you do.”

“Or, I could throw you both in the pond!” Shiro scooped Pidge into his arms and took a few threatening steps towards the water’s edge as she screamed and failed, laughing too hard to escape. Furface ran around them in excited circles, demanding to be part of the fun.

It wasn’t until they separated, Pidge waving wildly with one hand as she tried to lead a dripping Furface away that Shiro let his mask fall. He felt ugly underneath, anxious and lonely all shoved down deep where no one would ever see it. Pidge could tell that there was something more behind his calm smile and dry humor, but she didn’t know how tired Shiro was of fighting and if he had his way, she never would. She had enough to worry about without adding himself to that list.

It all just felt too much sometimes. There were too many responsibilities, too many expectations. He was balanced on the edge of failure and respectability, torn between the life he always wanted to live and his family who needed him to be someone he could never be. A part of himself hoped Pidge would find a way to escape dramatically, it was only a matter of time before she managed. He wanted to be grateful. He knew a job and a roof over his head was far more than most people got, but sometimes the price felt too steep. Shiro was tired of trying, especially when it all ended the same way.

He’d known better than to take risks anymore, the scars across his body were a constant reminder. The nightmares, the guilt, the fear that waited until his guard was down to swallow him whole, all while wearing an uncomfortable suit and smiling for the cameras like nothing was wrong. Some days it was too much and all he wanted to do was break.

Or for someone to help him shut off the constant unwelcome thoughts that never left him alone.

Shiro sighed and wiped a spot of mud from the hem of his pants before walking back towards his apartment. He’d tried that before too and it had ended the same way everything else had. God, some days he just wanted it all to stop.

 

* * *

 

Shiro’s apartment was on the other side of town, but that didn’t stop Keith from rushing to it all the same, traffic be damned. He was out of breath when he shoved his way out of his cab, and his head was spinning when jogged down the block, and his legs were weak by the time he skidded through the front door of the lobby building, but he didn’t give a damn. There was too much that he wanted to say, and every word ricocheted through his chest like a bumper car on jet fuel until Keith thought his ribs would crumble or his heart would give out. Whatever came first.

He just needed five minutes with Shiro. Five minutes to get rid of everything and wipe the slate clean. Five minutes to keep him from making a terrible mistake, and to make this better somehow. Keith needed to believe there was a better.

Then everything stopped.

A familiar frame with a shock of white hair was getting into the elevator, in a fancy shirt and muddied slacks, and Keith couldn’t afford to turn away.

“You can’t work with Lance!” 

Keith tumbled into the elevator just as it was closing and the two men stared at each other in shock.

“Keith?!”

Keith was breathing hard, and he felt blue at the edges, but he was in too deep and refused to be rescued out.

“I know I said I couldn’t work with you and you should have someone else that can help you. I mean, I get it, you shouldn’t just stop because of me if this is what you want. You should find someone that’s good, better.” The words wouldn’t stop pouring out of his mouth and Keith was helpless to stop them. “But not Lance, he’s not careful. He won’t know how to help, he’s just loud and he’s inexperienced. He’s not a bad guy I guess, but he’s not right for you he’s just…not right.”

The door of the elevator dinged and slid shut, starting it’s quiet ascent to the penthouse and leaving the two men standing in stunned silence.

Keith backed up against the door, panicked. He hadn’t meant to come, he’d just lost it. He’d stormed out before he could think, too hurt to be rational. He’d regretted every moment since he’d left Shiro, doing the right thing wasn’t supposed to be so hard. Coming here had been a mistake and now he was trapped with no way out. He looked up at Shiro who twisted his mouth into a wry smile.

“Door’s closed.”

“Yup.” Keith said shortly.

“Not quite what you were expecting, huh?”

“Nope.”

Shiro sighed and pulled the emergency button, the elevator shuddering to a stop. “Keith, what are you doing here?”

Keith straightened his shoulders, slipping back behind his normal scowl. “I think I said everything.”

“Yeah, you certainly said a lot.” Shiro ran metal fingers through the back of his hair. “I hadn’t decided on who I was going to work with or if I even wanted to continue. After what happened, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea anymore.” Shiro snorted dryly. “I mean, it was so bad, the only way I get to talk to you now is if I lock you in a metal box. I’m pretty sure the only way you can get out is if you get to the emergency hatch on the ceiling.”

They looked up at the same time, considering. Shiro mentally shrugged, Keith could probably make it, too. Everything sounded more bitter than he wanted to be, but just as resigned as he already was. Ever since the charity gala, he’d been praying that Keith would return even one of his calls, long after he knew it was a lost cause.

Seeing Keith now felt like a punch in the gut, and if he was leaning too heavily against the wall, he hoped Keith wouldn’t notice. Because this was humiliating, even if it hadn’t really been a break up. You couldn’t do a scene that all parties didn’t consent to, but Shiro had still messed up. He wasn’t ready for the way it came back to blow up in his face.

“You’re an asshole, Keith.” Shiro said. He smiled and it was too sharp and too mean for nice. “Figured if you were done, I could get my shot in.”

“Open the door.”

“Not until you tell me the real reason you came here.” Shiro crossed his arms and they stared each other down until Keith finally looked away.

“I just wanted to warn you.”

“I can take care of myself, I don’t need your help in finding another partner or not. I don’t need you to protect me.” Shiro refused to move and Keith’s eyes flicked from the emergency button to the roof hatch. Finally he gave up, shoulders slumping slightly.

“I was worried about you.” He muttered.

Shiro shook his head. “Not worried enough, or you wouldn’t have left me in the middle of this mess.”

“I was trying to help you!” Rage and guilt chased each other through Keith’s heart and he clenched his fists.

“And I don’t need your help. I told you, I don’t need you to protect me.” Anger crept into Shiro’s voice and he pushed into Keith’s space, not backing down. “I don’t need you trying to make decisions for me, not about who I get to work with, not who I get to sleep with, and not who I want to be friends with. Do you understand?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Keith said sourly, but Shiro wasn’t done.

“So you didn’t just leave because you thought you knew what was better for me than I did?”

“I know more than you do. I have more experience with this sort of thing.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to decide for me!”

Shiro yelled, and Keith sent him a withering glare. It left shame curling in the center of his chest, tender and raw, until Shiro was trembling with it. The words settled between them like a physical weight, and Keith met Shiro’s eyes just once before he retreated, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The regret was too much to bear.

“You were going to do something reckless, and you were going to regret it.” Keith gritted his jaw so hard, he thought his teeth would crack. It was a confession he never wanted to make, but one that deserved to see the light of day. No matter how much it hurt. “I didn’t want you to regret me.”

“You’re right.”

Shiro’s voice was so soft, Keith flinched. He could feel the blood draining from his face, and the elevator just felt so much smaller, but Shiro’s footsteps seemed to echo through it. He had no idea how Shiro could still manage to sound kind.

“I’m going to something I’ll probably regret.”

Then there were hands in his hair, so painfully gentle that Keith had to look up. Shiro was right on top of him, pulling him in closer. Keith didn’t know who closed the distance, but it didn’t matter. He was kissing him, kissing Shiro for everything he had, kissing him like he would never get another chance. All that dense, powerful strength worked against him now, and Shiro pinned him to the wall, lighting up the buttons behind them in a messy swathe. Shiro kissed with his entire body, giving everything he could and everything he had, pressing up against Keith from knee to hip to chest and sighing into his mouth. When he pulled away, Keith dragged him back in.

He bit down on Shiro’s mouth, demanding, yielding, gasping bits of broken pleas. He tugged Shiro’s shirt out from his waistband, letting his hands slip beneath to ravage his scarred body. He tug his fingers into the muscles of Shiro’s back, nails just biting deep enough to sting as Shiro lifted him with ease. Keith found himself pinned, crushed against the elevator wall by Shiro’s weight. Keith wrapped his legs around him to keep Shiro’s body trapped tightly between his thighs.

“Keith-” Shiro’s voice was breathless and heavy with want, but Keith silenced him with another kiss.

“Don’t talk.” He ordered. Shiro stroked his metal fingers through Keith’s hair, gently at first before his grip tightened enough to hurt and he pulled back until Keith let his head tip to expose his neck. Shiro bent to kiss the frantic pulse that beat against Keith’s skin, sucking a deep red mark into the curve of his neck that promised to bloom into a bruise. An unmistakable mark of what they’d done.

Keith’s eyes slid closed as he stopped thinking and just focused on the way Shiro’s hips canted forward, the tight constraint of his clothes, and the way Shiro could drag shocks of unexpected pleasure from a mouth that seemed made for wicked promises. He snarled as he yanked on the front of Shiro’s shirt, sending buttons clattering to the floor as he tore it open.

“Hey!” Keith looked up to see Shiro rubbing his chin, gone cross-eyed where he tried to look down the edge of his nose. “Watch what you do with those things.”

He looked so put upon and hurt, that Keith had to smile. Flushed pink, hair ruffled, and breathing, Shiro was beautiful. Just goddamn beautiful. And he was wearing the most annoyed look Keith had ever seen on him.

Keith bit back a laugh, only to have it twist free in a breathy sort of giggle. And another. And another, until Shiro cracked a smile and laughed with him and they were holding on to each other, shaking with it, and Keith’s face hurt from smiling.

This time when Shiro moved, he didn’t have to say a word. Keith felt him shift, and moving with him felt as easy as breathing. They met in the middle, in a kiss that Keith felt he’d waited his whole life for. Shiro cupped his cheek, keeping him close as he took him apart, slowly opening him up and claiming inch after careful inch like Keith would slip away if he didn’t savor him so thoroughly. With long, wet strokes that sent heat racing all the way to the tips of his toes. Shiro kissed like he could lick the pink off Keith’s lips, and it was electrifying.

Nothing but the wall was keeping Keith up now. That did all sorts of things to the butterflies in his belly. Keith wasn’t sure he was breathing when they pulled away.

“If Furface promises not to maul me, can we take this upstairs? I want to...” He asked. There was a lot to talk about, too much that felt too personal for an elevator, no matter how fancy. He felt more than heard the way Shiro laughed, his forehead resting against his and pressed so close Keith could feel his warmth through his clothes.

“No promises, Furface has his own agenda.” Shiro teased, but he wasn’t just talking about Furface. That was okay. Keith would live with that. Then he reached behind him to reactivate the elevator.

Nothing happened.

Shiro frowned and fiddled with the emergency button, but the elevator remained stubbornly in place. “Crap. I think it might be actually stuck.”

“Are you serious?” Keith leaned in over the control panel, giving the buttons an experimental press. “Should we call someone?”

“Probably.” But Shiro was already pressing the emergency call button and scowling.

Keith sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Nothing about this day was going quite the way it should. He would regret things more if he didn’t taste Shiro on his lips. He watched the other man fiddle with the control panel before giving up completely. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sure someone will notice soon and they’ll call the super.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Keith wrapped his hand around Shiro’s wrist and tugged him closer. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I got too close and I never wanted to be the reason you were hurt.”

Shiro twined his arms around him and Keith buried his face into his friend’s chest. He could hear the steady beat of Shiro’s heart and his body fought to join its rhythm. All the worries and doubts seemed distant, the only thing that was real was the ring of Shiro’s arms. “Don’t you think I should have a say in what I’m willing to risk?”

Keith grunted as Shiro tipped his head up and stole a kiss.

“I think I’ve been pretty clear this far, but what if I said I wanted to take the risk with you?” Shiro murmured against his lips, slowly walking Keith back against the wall until he was pressed up against the cool metal.

“Then I’d say you were being an idiot.” Keith said but wasn’t quite able to reach the level of grump he was hoping for, not when Shiro’s bare chest was close enough to touch.

“And I’d say that it looks like we’re not getting out of here any time soon.”

“I might need to be convinced.” Keith warned. Shiro was smiling again. It was very distracting. Keith put his hands on his chest like he’d wanted to since the moment he’d met Shiro, but now he had vivid memories of licking every single one of those scars, and the sensitive dip of Shiro’s belly button.

“I can be very convincing.” Then Shiro was leaning in, kissing him long and slow, his big hands sliding along the line of Keith’s body, rumpling his shirt more and more every time they moved. “With visual aids and everything.”

Keith laughed as he was dragged into another messy kiss, shamelessly grinning into Shiro’s mouth. That how they found them, tangled in each other and completely unaware that the world existed, even as firemen forced open the elevator doors.

It wasn’t until one of the firefighters cleared their throat that Shiro and Keith looked up, flushed and guilty like two teens caught in the act. Everyone in the lobby started laughing and Keith let his head drop to Shiro’s chest in embarrassment.

“So much for your reputation.” He groaned.

Shiro only laughed. “I think it’s past time I really do take that risk. I like you, Keith. I want to see where this goes.”

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“I don’t want easy, I want you.” 

They kissed again, not caring who was watching. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans on tumblr [here](http://itdans.tumblr.com/)  
> Rune's tumblr is [here](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com/) and twitter is [here.](http://twitter.com/runicscribbles)
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed! Come say hello. :)


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